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Bruce Springsteen
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It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City
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Letra actual de la canción
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra<br />I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova<br />I could walk like Brando right into the sun<br />Then dance just like a Casanova<br />With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet<br />Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat<br />When I strut down the street I could feel its heartbeat<br />The sisters fell back and said Don't that man look pretty<br />The cripple on the corner cried out Nickels for your pity<br />Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty<br />It's so hard to be a saint in the city<br /><br />I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash<br />I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's bash<br />I was the pimp's main prophet I kept everything cool<br />Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose<br />And when the heat came down it was left on the ground<br />The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street<br />Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat<br />I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat<br />It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy out on the street<br /><br />And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead<br />As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead<br />They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread<br />But it's too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat<br />You get up to get out at your next stop but they push you back down in your seat<br />Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet<br />Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street<br /><br />And them South Side sisters sure look pretty<br />The cripple on the corner cries out Nickels for your pity<br />And them downtown boys sure talk gritty
Letra nueva de la canción
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra<br />I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova<br />I could walk like Brando right into the sun<br />Then dance just like a Casanova<br />With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet<br />Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat<br />When I strut down the street I could feel its heartbeat<br />The sisters fell back and said Don't that man look pretty<br />The cripple on the corner cried out Nickels for your pity<br />Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty<br />It's so hard to be a saint in the city<br /><br />I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash<br />I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's bash<br />I was the pimp's main prophet I kept everything cool<br />Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose<br />And when the heat came down it was left on the ground<br />The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street<br />Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat<br />I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat<br />It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy out on the street<br /><br />And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead<br />As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead<br />They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread<br />But it's too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat<br />You get up to get out at your next stop but they push you back down in your seat<br />Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet<br />Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street<br /><br />And them South Side sisters sure look pretty<br />The cripple on the corner cries out Nickels for your pity<br />And them downtown boys sure talk gritty
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