The Boxer

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles
Such are promises

All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
Mmm mmm mmm, mmm mmm

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared

Laying low
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie lie lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

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 Avenue

I do declare
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
La la la la
La la la la

Lie lie lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie 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
Bleeding me, going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed 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
Mmm, mmm

Lie lie lie
Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

Lie la lie
Lie la lie
Lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie
La la la lie

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