Crime In The City (Sixty To Zero pt.1) / Crimine in città (Sessanta a zero pt.1)
Well, the cop made the showdown
He was sure he was right
He had all of the lowdown
From the bank heist last night
His best friend was the robber
And his wife was a thief
All the children were killers
They couldn't get no relief
The bungalow was surrounded
When a voice loud and clear
Said, “come on out with your hands up
Or we'll blow you out of here”
There was a face in the window
The TV cameras rolled
Then they cut to the announcer
And the story was told
The artist looked at the producer
The producer sat back
He said, “what we have got here
Is a perfect track
But we don't have a vocal
And we don't have a song
If we could get these things accomplished
Nothin' else could go wrong”
So he balanced the ashtray
As he picked up the phone
And said, “send me a songwriter
Who's drifted far from home
And make sure that he's hungry
Make sure he's alone
Send me a cheeseburger
And a new Rolling Stone
Yeah”
“There's still crime in the city”
Said the cop on the beat
“I don't know if I can stop it
I feel like meat on the street
They paint my car like a target
I take my orders from fools
Meanwhile some kid blows my head off
Well, I play by their rules
That's why I'm doin' it my way
I took the law in my hands
So here I am in the alleyway
A wad of cash in my pants
I get paid by a ten year old
He says he looks up to me
There's still crime in the city
But it's good to be free
Yeah”
Now I come from a family
That has a broken home
Sometimes I talk to Daddy
On the telephone
When he says that he loves me
I know that he does
But I wish I could see him
I wish I knew where he was
But that's the way all my friends are
Except maybe one or two
Wish I could see him this weekend
Wish I could walk in his shoes
But now I'm doin' my own thing
Sometimes I'm good then I'm bad
Although my home has been broken
It's the best home I ever had
Yeah
Well, I keep gettin' younger
My life's been funny that way
Before I ever learned to talk
I forgot what to say
I sassed back to my mom
I sassed back to my teacher
I got thrown out of Bible school
For sassin' back at the preacher
Then I grew up to be a fireman
Put out every fire in town
Put out anything smokin'
But when I put the hose down
The judge sent me to prison
He gave me life without parole
Wish I never put the hose down
Wish I never got old
* * * *
There's a judge in the city
He goes to work every day
He spends his life in the courthouse
Keeps his perspective that way
But I respect his decision
He's got a lot on his mind
He's pretty good with the gavel
A little heavy on the fines
One day there was this minstrel
Who came to court on a charge
That he blew someone's ears off
Because his amp was too large
And the song he was singin'
Was not for love but for cash
Well, the judge weighed the charges
He fingered his mustache
Now the jailhouse was empty
All the criminals were gone
The gate was left wide open
And a buck and a fawn
Were eating grass in the courtyard
When the warden walked in
He took the rifle from the prison guard
And said to him with a grin
“To shoot those deer would be stupid
We already got 'em right here
Why not just lock the gates and keep them
With intimidation and fear?”
But the warden pulled the trigger
And those deer hit the ground
He said “Nobody'll know the difference”
And they both looked around
(...)
I got thrown out of Bible school
For givin' a finger to the preacher
* * * *
He was sure he was right
He had all of the lowdown
From the bank heist last night
His best friend was the robber
And his wife was a thief
All the children were killers
They couldn't get no relief
The bungalow was surrounded
When a voice loud and clear
Said, “come on out with your hands up
Or we'll blow you out of here”
There was a face in the window
The TV cameras rolled
Then they cut to the announcer
And the story was told
The artist looked at the producer
The producer sat back
He said, “what we have got here
Is a perfect track
But we don't have a vocal
And we don't have a song
If we could get these things accomplished
Nothin' else could go wrong”
So he balanced the ashtray
As he picked up the phone
And said, “send me a songwriter
Who's drifted far from home
And make sure that he's hungry
Make sure he's alone
Send me a cheeseburger
And a new Rolling Stone
Yeah”
“There's still crime in the city”
Said the cop on the beat
“I don't know if I can stop it
I feel like meat on the street
They paint my car like a target
I take my orders from fools
Meanwhile some kid blows my head off
Well, I play by their rules
That's why I'm doin' it my way
I took the law in my hands
So here I am in the alleyway
A wad of cash in my pants
I get paid by a ten year old
He says he looks up to me
There's still crime in the city
But it's good to be free
Yeah”
Now I come from a family
That has a broken home
Sometimes I talk to Daddy
On the telephone
When he says that he loves me
I know that he does
But I wish I could see him
I wish I knew where he was
But that's the way all my friends are
Except maybe one or two
Wish I could see him this weekend
Wish I could walk in his shoes
But now I'm doin' my own thing
Sometimes I'm good then I'm bad
Although my home has been broken
It's the best home I ever had
Yeah
Well, I keep gettin' younger
My life's been funny that way
Before I ever learned to talk
I forgot what to say
I sassed back to my mom
I sassed back to my teacher
I got thrown out of Bible school
For sassin' back at the preacher
Then I grew up to be a fireman
Put out every fire in town
Put out anything smokin'
But when I put the hose down
The judge sent me to prison
He gave me life without parole
Wish I never put the hose down
Wish I never got old
* * * *
Be', lo sbirro arrivò alla resa dei conti
Era sicuro di essere nel giusto
Aveva avuto tutte le informazioni
Sulla rapina in banca della notte prima
Il rapinatore era il suo migliore amico
E sua moglie era una ladra
I bambini erano degli assassini
Non potevano ottenere aiuto
Il bungalow era circondato
E una voce forte e chiara
Disse, “uscite fuori con le mani in alto
O vi staneremo con la forza”
C'era un volto alla finestra
Le telecamere riprendevano
Poi staccarono sul conduttore
E la storia fu raccontata
L'artista guardò il produttore
Il produttore si mise comodo
Disse, “quello che abbiamo qui
È una traccia perfetta
Ma non abbiamo una voce
Quindi non abbiamo una canzone
Se riuscissimo a completare queste cose
Nient'altro potrebbe andare storto”
Quindi sistemò il posacenere
Mentre sollevava la cornetta
E disse, “mandatemi un cantautore
Che stia vagabondando lontano da casa
E assicuratevi che sia affamato
Assicuratevi che sia solo
Fatemi avere un cheeseburger
E il nuovo Rolling Stone”
Yeah
“C'è ancora crimine in città”
Disse lo sbirro di ronda
“Non so se potrò fermarlo
Per strada mi sento come carne fresca
Dipingono la mia auto come un bersaglio
Prendo ordini da degli idioti
Intanto qualche ragazzino mi fa scoppiare la testa
Be', gioco secondo le loro regole
Ecco perché lo faccio a modo mio
Ho preso la legge in mano
Perciò eccomi qui nel vicolo
Una mazzetta di soldi nei pantaloni
Vengo pagato da un bambino di dieci anni
Dice che mi ammira
C'è ancora crimine in città
Ma è bello essere liberi”
Yeah
Bene, vengo da una famiglia
Che è distrutta
Qualche volta parlo con papà
Al telefono
Quando dice che mi vuole bene
So che è vero
Ma vorrei poterlo vedere
Vorrei sapere dove si trova
Ma tutti i miei amici sono fatti così
Tranne forse uno o due
Vorrei poterlo vedere questo weekend
Vorrei poter essere nei suoi panni
Ma ora penso a me stesso
A volte sono buono, a volte cattivo
Anche se la mia famiglia è stata distrutta
È la migliore che abbia mai avuto
Yeah
Be', continuo a ringiovanire
La mia vita è stata divertente in questo senso
Prima che imparassi a parlare
Ho dimenticato cosa dire
Rispondevo male a mia mamma
Rispondevo male alla maestra
Sono stato cacciato dal catechismo
Per aver risposto male al prete
Poi sono cresciuto come pompiere
Spegnevo ogni incendio in città
Spegnevo qualsiasi cosa fumasse
Ma quando posai la pompa
Il giudice mi mandò in galera
Mi diede l'ergastolo senza condizionale
Vorrei non aver mai posato la pompa
Vorrei non essere mai invecchiato
------------------------------------------
VERSI DIFFERENTI
[fonte: Bluenote Cafè]
Nota: la canzone è un estratto di “Sixty To Zero” con un numero inferiore di strofe; due delle strofe cantate in questa versione sono diverse rispetto alla versione di Freedom.
He goes to work every day
He spends his life in the courthouse
Keeps his perspective that way
But I respect his decision
He's got a lot on his mind
He's pretty good with the gavel
A little heavy on the fines
One day there was this minstrel
Who came to court on a charge
That he blew someone's ears off
Because his amp was too large
And the song he was singin'
Was not for love but for cash
Well, the judge weighed the charges
He fingered his mustache
Now the jailhouse was empty
All the criminals were gone
The gate was left wide open
And a buck and a fawn
Were eating grass in the courtyard
When the warden walked in
He took the rifle from the prison guard
And said to him with a grin
“To shoot those deer would be stupid
We already got 'em right here
Why not just lock the gates and keep them
With intimidation and fear?”
But the warden pulled the trigger
And those deer hit the ground
He said “Nobody'll know the difference”
And they both looked around
(...)
I got thrown out of Bible school
For givin' a finger to the preacher
* * * *
C'è un giudice in città
Che va al lavoro ogni giorno
Passa la sua vita in tribunale
Così mantiene la sua prospettiva
Ma io rispetto la sua decisione
Ne ha tante per la testa
È piuttosto bravo con il martelletto
Un po' severo con le multe
Un giorno c'era questo menestrello
Portato in tribunale per omicidio
Aveva fatto saltare le orecchie a qualcuno
Per colpa dell'amplificatore troppo alto
E stava cantando una canzone
Non per amore ma per soldi
Be', il giudice aggravò l'accusa
Lisciandosi i baffi
Il carcere era vuoto
Tutti i criminali erano spariti
Il cancello spalancato
E un cervo e un cerbiatto
Brucavano erba nel cortile
Quando il direttore arrivò
Prese il fucile della guardia
E gli disse con un ghigno
“Sparare a quei cervi sarebbe stupido
Sono già qui dentro
Perché non chiudiamo il cancello e li costringiamo qui
Con l’intimidazione e la paura?”
Ma il direttore tirò il grilletto
E i cervi caddero a terra
Disse “Nessuno noterà la differenza”
Ed entrambi si guardarono intorno
(...)
Sono stato cacciato dal catechismo
Per aver fatto il dito medio al prete