The CreatorWell please, I'll finish this beatI was born in ParisYou know me better under the name of GianniIn January 1943I was born in the streetBy a night of rageI was born in the streetI was born in the streetIn the streetI was born in the cityWhere the walls are all greyBehind a fieldWhere I find myself surprisedWhen I see the ironI don't want to grow upDon't be surprised if I don't know how to smileI was born in the streetI was born in the streetIn the streetI didn't need a father to make me go home at nightAnd often my mother worked during the nightI played the guitar sitting on the sidewalkMy heart like a stoneI started my lifeBecause I was bornI was born in the streetI had to fight to have the girl I lovedI had to fight even harder to keep herOn all sides of the city they were looking for meBut France was locked upAnd then they didn't save meI was born in the streetI was born in the streetYou know, in the streetI was born in a cityWhere the walls are all greyMy name is in silverAnd my guitar is in goldYesterday's songs are the same as todayBut when the night comesI go back to the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the streetI speak with respectAnd I say goodbyeMy friends are chosenWho are the best who areI would like to be changedBut it's a lost causeYou are wasting your timeI would go back to the streetBecause I was bornI was bornBorn in the streetBorn in the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the streetBorn in the streetIn the streetIn the streetI was born in the streetIn the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the streetI was born in the street