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Well 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 Well I walked like Brando right into the sun And danced just like a Casanova Well with my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet Silver Star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat When I bop down the street I can hear its heart-beat And all the women fell back and said “don’t that man look pretty?” The cripple on the corner cries out “nickels for your pity” And the gasoline boys downtown they sure talk gritty It’s so hard to be a saint in the city Well I was the of the alley, I could talk trash I was the prince of the paupers, crowned downtown at the beggar’s bash I was the pimp’s main prophet but 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 Showing 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 The tracks clack out the rhythm, their eyes fixed straight ahead They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread Letras de cancionesIt’s too hot in these tunnels; you can get hit up by the heat I get up to get out at the next stop but they push me down in the seat My heart starts beating faster as I struggle to my feet And I get out of that hole and I’m back up on the street Now the Southside sisters sure look pretty And the cripple on the corner knows I don’t pay for no pity And them gasoline boys, yeah they sure talk gritty It’s so hard to be a saint in the city From Letras Mania