In the ghetto Howard Carpendale As the snow flies, on a cold and grey Chicago morninganother little baby child is born, in the ghetto. in the ghetto And his mama cries, 'cause if there's one thing that she don't needit's another little baby mouth to feed, in the ghetto. in the ghetto People don't you understand, the child needs a helping handcause he grow up at angry young man one day. Take a look at you and me, are we to blind to see Do we always turn our heads and look the other wayas the world turns and a hungry little boy with a running noseplays in the street and the cold wind blows in the ghetto. in the ghetto And his hunger burnes, and he starts to run on the streets of nights. And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight, in the ghetto. in the ghetto Then one night in desperation the young man breaks away. He buys a gun, steals a car, tries to run but he doesn't get far.and his mama cries, as a crowed gather round an angry young manlying in the street with a gun in his hand, in the ghetto. in the ghetto And as her young man dies, on a cold and grey Chicago morning Another little baby child is born, in the ghetto. in the ghettoin the ghetto. in the ghettoin the ghetto. in the ghettoin the ghetto. in the ghetto In the ghettoTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
