As the snow flies,
on a cold and grey Chicago morning
a poor little baby child is born
in the ghetto.
And his mama cries.
'Cause if there's one thing that she don't need, it's another hungry mouth to feed
in the ghetto.
People, don't you understand?
The child needs a helping hand;
or he'll gonna be an angry young man some day. Take a look at you and me.
Are we too blind to see?
Or do we simply turn our heads
And look at the other way?
Well, the world turns.
And a hungry little boy with the runny nose
plays in the street as the cold wind blows.
In the ghetto.
And his hunger burns.
So he starts to roam the streets at night and he learns how to steal, and he learns how to fight in the ghetto.
And then one night in desperation
a young man breaks away.
He buys a gun, steals a car,
tries to run, but he don't get far,
and his mama cries.
As the crowd gathers round an angry young man face down in the street with the gun in his hand
in the ghetto.
And as her young man dies,
on a cold and grey Chicago morning
another little baby child is born
in the ghetto.
And his mama cries.
In the ghetto.
In the ghetto.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.