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| Bbm7 | | On a | cold and grey Chicago morning |
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| B | C#7 | F# | | A | poor little baby | child is born in the | ghetto |
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| F# | | And his | mamma cries... |
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| Bbm7 | | 'Cos if t | here's one thing that she dont need |
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| B | C#7 | F# | | It is | another hungry mo | uth to feed in the g | hetto |
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| C# | | People dont you u | nderstand |
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| B | F# | | The child needs a h | elping h | and |
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| B | C# | F# | | Or h | e'll gonna be an a | ngry young man some d | ay |
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| C# | | Take a look at y | ou and me |
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| B | F# | | Are we too bl | ind to s | ee |
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| B | Bbm | Abm | C#7 | | Or d | o we simply t | urn our heads and l | ook the other | way |
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And a hungry little boy with a runny nose |
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Plays in the street as the cold wind blows in the ghetto |
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So he starts to roam the streets at night |
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And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight in the ghetto |
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| | | C# | B | F# | | | Th | en one night in desperation the y | oung man breaks a | way |
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| | | B | Bbm7 | | | He b | uys a gun, he s | teals a car, |
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| | | Abm | C#7 | | | He t | ries to run but he | dont get far |
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As a crowd gathers round an angry young man |
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Face down in the street with a gun in his hand in the ghetto |
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And as her young man dies... |
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On a cold and grey Chicago morning |
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| B | C#7 | F# | | An | other little baby c | hild is born in the gh | etto... |
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