The Boxer

I am just a poor boy.

Ami

Though my story's seldom told,

I have squandered my resistance

for a pocketful of numbles, such are promises.

Ami

All lies and jest,

still a man hears what he wants to hear.

And disregards the rest.

When I left my home and my family,

Ami

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 quarters 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 la Lie la la la la lie.

Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job,

but I get no offers,

Just a comeon from the whores on Seventh Avenue.

Ami Dmi7

I do declare, there were times

when I was so lone some I

took some comfort there.

Ooo la la la la la la.

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes

and wishing I was gone, going home

Dmi G7

Where the New York City

winters aren't bleeding me,

Leading me, going home.

In the clearing stands a boxer,

Ami7

and a fighter by his trade

And he carries the reminders

of ev'ry glove that laid him down

Dmi7

Or cut him till

he cried out in his anger and his sh?

"I am leaving. I am leaving."

But the fighter still remains.

Lie la lie...