[00:00.00] 作曲 : Bruce Springsteen
[00:01.00] 作词 : Bruce Springsteen
[00:15.271]
[00:24.615]I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
[00:32.320]I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a super-nova
[00:40.295]I could walk like Brando into the sun, and dance just like a Casanova
[00:50.307]With my black-jack and jacket and my hair slicked sweet
[00:54.303]Silver studs on my duds just like a Harley in heat
[00:58.194]When I strut down the street I can hear its heartbeat
[01:02.728]The sisters fell back and said 'Don't that man look pretty'
[01:06.770]The cripple on the corner cried out 'Penny, nickels for your pity'
[01:10.405]Them gasoline boys down-town, they sure talk gritty
[01:14.033]It's so hard to be a saint in the city
[01:18.487]
[01:24.110]I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash
[01:31.678]I was the Prince of the Paupers, crowned down-town at the Beggars' Bash
[01:39.633]I was a pimp's main prophet, I kept everything cool
[01:43.708]Just a back-street gambler with the luck to lose
[01:49.653]And when the heat came down it was left on the ground, mama
[01:54.552]Devil appeared to me like Jesus through the steam in the street, and
[01:58.291]Showed me a hand that even the cops couldn't beat
[02:01.473]And I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat, and
[02:05.192]It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a poor boy out on the street
[02:13.292]
[02:15.563]And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead
[02:19.154]As the tracks clack out the rhythm, the eyes fixed straight ahead
[02:23.323]They ride the line of balancing, hold on by just a thread
[02:27.089]Well, it's too hot in these tunnels, you can get hit up by the heat
[02:30.991]When you get up to get out at your next stop
[02:33.301]but they push you right down in your seat
[02:35.434]And your heart starts beatin faster as you struggle to your feet
[02:38.714]Then you're out of that hole! Back on the street
[02:42.893]And them south-side sisters, they sure look pretty
[02:47.080]And the cripple on the corner cries out 'Nickels for your pity'
[02:51.051]And them down-town boys, they sure talk gritty
[02:55.142]It's so hard to be a saint in the city
[03:02.234]