IT'S HARD TO BE A SAINT IN THE CITY | Тesto e Тraduzione (al clic)

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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 just like a Harley in heat

When I strut down the street I could hear its 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 gasoline boys downtown 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

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Bruce Springsteen – It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City testo e traduzione (al clic) in italiano