It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City (Demo Version - 1972)

Well 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

Well I walk like Brando right into the sun

And dance just like a Casanova

Now with my blackjack and jacket

And hair slicked sweet

Silver star studs on my duds

Like a Harley in heat

When I walk down the street

I could hear its heart beat

An old woman fell back and said

Don't that man look pretty

The cripple on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity"

And then gasoline boys downtown that sure talk gritty

It's so hard to be a saint in the city

Well I was the king of the alley

I could talk a 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

It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy out on the street

When the sages and the subway

Sit just like the living dead

The tracks clack out the rhythm

Their eyes fixed straight ahead

They ride the line of balance

And hold on by just a thread

It's too hot in these tunnels

You can get hit up by the heat

I get up to get out at your next stop

But they push you back in your seat

My heart starts beatin' faster as I struggle to my feet

Then I get out of that hole and I went back up on the street

And then South Side sisters sure look pretty

And the cripple on the corner knows I don't pay for no critic

And then gasoline boys, yeah they sure talk gritty

It's so hard to be a saint in the city