文本歌词

It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City - David Bowie (大卫·鲍伊)
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
And dance just like a Casanova
With my black jack and jacket and
My hair slicked sweet
Silver studs on my duds just like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street
I can hear it's heartbeat
The sisters fell back and said
Don't that man look pretty
The cripple on the corner cried out Penny
Nickels for your pity
Them gasoline boys down town they 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
I was the Prince of the Paupers
Crowned down town at the Beggars Bash
I was a pimps main prophet I kept everything cool
Just a back street gambler with the luck to lo ose
And when the heat came down it was left
On the ground mama
Devil appeared to me like Jesus through
The steam in the street an
Showed me a hand that even
The cops couldn't beat
And I felt his hot breath
On my neck as I dove into the heat
And It's so hard to be a saint
When you're just a poor bo-oy out on the street
And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm
The eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balancing
Hold on by just a thread
Well it's too hot in these tunnels
You can get hit up by the heat
When you get up to get out at your next stop
But they push you right down in your seat
And your heart starts beating faster
As you struggle to your feet
Then you're out of that hole back on the street
And them south side sisters
They sure look pretty
And the cripple on the corner
Cries out Nickels for your pity
And them down town boys
They sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the c c city