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The Boxer
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I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles, such are promise
All lies and just still a man
Hears what he wants to hear
And disregard the rest, mm....
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers in the quiet
Of a railway station running scared
Laying love, seeking out the poorer quarter
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the place only they would know
<*> Lie-lalie, lie-lalie-la, lie-lalie, lie-lalie-la
Lie-lalie, la la la la la ,lie-la la la la lie
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I got no offers
just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times
When I was so lone some I took some comfort there
Ooo-la-la, la la la
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone, going home
Where the Newyork City winters aren't bleeding me
Leading me, going home
In a clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of ev're glove
That laid him down or cut him till he cried
Out in his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
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