On a cold and grey Chicago morning
A poor little baby child is born in the ghetto
Cause if there's one thing
People don't you understand
The child needs a helping hand
Or he'll grow to be an ugly
Take a look at you and me,
Do we simply turn our heads
And a hungry little boy with a
He's playing in the street
as a cold wind blows in the ghetto
And his hunger burns in the street
So he starts to roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
and he learns how to fight in the ghetto
Then one night, desperation,
He buys a gun, steals a car,
tries to run, but he don't get far
As the crowd gathers round,
an angry young man face down
On the street with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto, in the ghetto
On a cold and grey Chicago morning
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto, in the ghetto
And here's to mama cryin'