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2025-01-09 15:33 | 星期四

It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Live歌词-Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Ba

It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Live歌词由Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band演唱,出自专辑《Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band Live 1975-85 (Display Box)》,下面是《It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Live》完整版歌词!

It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Live歌词

It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Live歌词完整版

It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City (Live) - Bruce Springsteen/The E Street Band

I had skin like leather and the diamond hard look of a cobra

I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova

I could walk like brando right into the sun

Then dance just like a casanova

With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet

Silver star studs on my duds like a harley in heat

When I strut down the street I could feel its heartbeat

The sisters fell back and said don't that man look pretty

The cripple on the corner cried out nickels for your pity

Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty

It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king of the alley mama I could talk some trash

I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's bash

I was the pimp's main prophet I kept everything cool

Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose

And when the heat came down it was left on the ground

The devil appeared like jesus through the steam in the street

Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat

I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat

It's so hard to be a saint

When you're just a boy out on the street

And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead

As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead

They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread

But it's too hot in these tunnels

You can get hit up by the heat

You get up to get out at your next stop

But they push you back down in your seat

Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet

Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street

And them south side sisters sure look pretty

The cripple on the corner cries out nickels for your pity

And them downtown boys sure talk gritty

It's so hard to be a saint in the city

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