| A | C#m7 | |
| As the snow flies... On a | cold and grey Chicago morning |
| D | E7 | A | |
| A | poor little baby | child is born in the | ghetto |
| A | C#m7 | |
| And his | mamma cries... 'Cos if t | here's one thing that she dont need |
| D | E7 | A | |
| It's | another hungry mo | uth to feed in the g | hetto |
| E | |
| People dont you u | nderstand |
| D | A | |
| The child needs a h | elping h | and |
| D | E | A | |
| Or h | e'll gonna be an a | ngry young man some d | ay |
| E | |
| Take a look at y | ou and me |
| D | A | |
| Are we too bl | ind to s | ee |
| D | C#m | Bm | E7 | |
| Or d | o we simply t | urn our heads and l | ook the other | way |
| A | C#m7 | |
| Well, the | world turns... And a | hungry little boy with a runny nose |
| D | E7 | A | |
| Plays in the street as the | cold wind blows in the | ghetto |
| A | C#m7 | |
| And his | hunger burns... So he | starts to roam the streets at night |
| D | E7 | A | |
| And he | learns how to steal and he | learns how to fight in the g | hetto |
| E | D | A | |
| Th | en one night in desperation the y | oung man breaks a | way |
| D | C#m7 | |
| He b | uys a gun, he s | teals a car, |
| Bm | E7 | |
| He t | ries to run but he | dont get far |
| A | C#m7 | |
| And his | mamma cries... As a | crowd gathers round an angry young man |
| D | E7 | A | |
| Face | down in the street with a | gun in his hand in the g | hetto |
| A | C#m7 | |
| And as her | young man dies... On a | cold and grey Chicago morning |
| D | E7 | A | |
| An | other little baby c | hild is born in the gh | etto... |