It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City

Lyrics

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  
And, oh, 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  
And 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 they sure talk gritty  
It's so hard to be a saint in the city  
So hard  
Oh, now...