F#m D E I had skin like leather and the diamond hard look A D A D of a cobra A F#m D I was born blue and weathered but I burst E F#m just like a super nova F#m D I could walk like Brando right into the sun F#m D Dance just like a Casa Nova 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 F#m D E A7sus4 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 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 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 F#m D E It's so hard to be a saint when you're just A7sus4 A7 a boy out on the street A7 A7sus4 A7 Well my sages on the subway sit just like the living dead D7sus4 D7 As the track clack out their rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead G7 They ride the line of balance hold on by just a thread C7 But it's too hot in these tunnels, you get hit up by the heat Dm Dm/C You get up to go out at your next stop, they push you back down in your seat A# Your heart starts beatin fast as you struggle to your feet Esus4 E You're out of that hole back up on the street D E F#m And them south side sisters sure look pretty D E F#m The cripple on the corner cries out "nickles for your pity" D E F#m Them down town boys sure talk gritty D E Asus4 A It's so hard to be a saint in the city | TransposeReset Font sizeReset Chords fingeringsA A7 A7sus4 A# Asus4 C C7 D D7 D7sus4 Dm E Esus4 F#m G7 |