The Boxer

I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jest still a man hears
What he wants to hear and disregards the rest
Mm mm mm
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 low seeking out the poorer quaters where the ragged people go looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie
Lie la lie
La lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la la la lie
Lalala
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job but I get no offers just a come on from the whores on Seventh
AvenueI do declare there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Ooo lala
la la Lie la lie lie la lie
La lie la lie lie la lie Lie la lie lie la lie
La la la lie
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me leading me going home
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him till the cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving
I am leaving
But the fighter still remains
Lie la lie lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la
La la la
Lie la la la lie lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la
La la la
Lie la la la lie
Lie la lie la
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la La la la
Lie la la la lie lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la
La la la
Lie la la la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la La la la
Lie la la la lie lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la
La la la
Lie la la la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la la lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie la La la la
Lie la la la lie lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie
Liela lie la La lala
Lie la la la lie
Lie la la;