Accords et paroles Its Hard To Be A Saint In The City Bruce Springsteen

Its Hard To Be A Saint In The City

Bruce Springsteen

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Intro: (no 3rd) (no 3rd)
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 super nova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun
Dance just like a Casa Nova
With my blackjack jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in the heat
When I strut down the street I could feel it's heart beat
The sisters fell back and said "don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out "nickels for your pity"
Them down town boys 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      
The prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggars bash
I was the pimps main prophet I kept every thing cool
Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose
When the heat came down and it was left on the ground
The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street
Showed me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat
I felt the sideburn 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  
A7      A7sus                        A7
Well my sages on the subway sit just like the living dead
     D7sus                                     D7
As the track clack out their rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balance hold on by just a thread
But it's too hot in these tunnels you get hit up by the heat
You get up to go out at your next stop they push you back down in your seat
Your heart starts beatin fast as you struggle to your feet
         Esus                 E
You're out of that hole back up on the street
And them south side sisters sure look pretty
The cripple on the corner cries out "nickles for your pity"
Them down town boys sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city  
(Repeat and fade)

Its Hard To Be A Saint In The City

Bruce Springsteen

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