And the snow flies
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On a cold and grey Chicago morn
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A poor little baby child is born
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
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And his mama cries
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'Cause if there's one thing that she don't need
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It's another hungry mouth to feed
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
|
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People, don't you understand?
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The child needs a helping hand
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Or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day
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Take a look at you and me
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Are we too blind to see
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Or will we simply turn our heads
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And look the other way?
|
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And the world turns
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And the hungry little boy with the runny nose
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Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
|
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And his hunger burns
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So he starts to roam the streets at night
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He learns how to steal
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And he learns how to fight
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
|
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Then one night in desperation
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The young man breaks away
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He buys a gun, he steals a car
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He tries to run, but he don't get far
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And his mama cries
|
|
As a crowd gathers 'round an angry young man
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Face down in the street with a gun in his hand
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
|
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And as her young man dies (in the ghetto)
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On a cold and grey Chicago morn'
|
Another little baby child is born
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In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
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And his mama criesa˘ĉ|
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(In the ghetto, in the ghetto, in the ghettoa˘ĉ|)
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|
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In The Ghetto
|
| Chris De Burgh |
