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
tunnels
trash
thread
their
sweet
subway
strut
struggle
street
steam
starts
south
downtown
saint
diamond
weathered
right
crowned
cripple
balance
could
cries
appeared
these
faster
burst
living
cobra
through
jacket
fixed
backstreet
cried
pretty
alley
dance
gritty
everything
blackjack
prophet
slicked
breath
straight
silver
rhythm
corner
heart
casanova
devil
gasoline
gambler
ground
paupers
harley
clack
ahead
jesus
leather
tracks
supernova
nickels
prince
studs
sages
sisters
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