1369 – Bruce Springsteen – It's hard to be a saint in the city (1973)

 

Escrita por Bruce Springsteen, foi gravada em 1972 e lançada em 5 de janeiro de 1973 no disco Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J., seu disco de estréia. Fala sobre um jovem crescendo nas ruas de uma cidade e que tenta ser bom e tenta fazer o que acredita ser o certo. Mas que a vida da cidade pua-o para atividades erradas. Essa canção impressionou Mike Appel de tal maneira que ele largou seu emprego pra se tornar empresário de Bruce, embora o mesmo nem um contrato de gravação tinha ainda. Foi tambem a prmeira canção que Bruce cantou na sua audição na CBS, com John Hammond e que deu a ele o sonhado contrato, em 2 de maio de 1972. Bruce cantou e tocou guitarra. Vini Mad Dog Lopez tocou bateria. Gary Tallent tocou baixo e David Sancious tocou piano.

A letra:

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

And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread
But it's too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat
You get up to get out at your next stop but they push you back down in your seat
Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet
Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street

And them South Side sisters sure look pretty
The cripple on the corner cries out "Nickels for your pity"
And them downtown boys they sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

A versão de Bruce Springsteen:

A versão de David Bowie:

A versão de Tornsten Q: