Оригинален текст
Detroit's a cold, cold place, and I ain't got a dime to my name
Detroit's a cold, hard place, and I ain't got a dime to my name
I would go the poorhouse, but Lord you know I'm ashamed
I been walkin' Hastings Street, nobody seems to treat me right
I've been walkin' Hastings Street, nobody seems to treat me right
I can make it in the daytime, but Lord these cold cold nights
Well I'm tired of eatin' chili, and I can't eat beans no more
Yes I'm tired of eatin' chili, and I can't eat beans no more
People'll hurt my feelings, Lord from door to door
I got to leave Detroit, if I have to flag number ninety-four
I'm gonna leave Detroit, if I have to flag number ninety-four
And if I ever get back home, I ain't never comin' to Detroit no more