The Boxer
I am just a poor boythough my story's seldom toldI have squandered my resistancefor a pocket full of mumbles such are promisesAll lies and jests,still a man hears what he wants to hearand disregards the rest
When I left my home and my familyI was no more than a boyin the company of strangersin the quiet of the railway stationRunning scared, laying low,seeking out the poorer quarterswhere the ragged people golooking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie ...
Asking only workman's wagesI come looking for a jobbut I get no offers,just a come-on from the whores on Seventh AvenueI do declare, there were times when I was so lonesomeI took some comfort there
Lie la lie ...(The following verse is not included in the orginal verison)Now the years are rolling by methey are rockin' evenlyI am older than I once wasand younger than I'll be and that's not unusual.No it isn't strangeafter changes upon changeswe are more or less the sameafter changes we are more or less the sameLie la lie ...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothesand wishing I was gonegoing homewhere the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,bleeding me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxerand a fighter by his tradeand he carries the remindersof every glove that laid him downor cut him till he cried outin his anger and his shame"I am leaving, I am leaving"but the fighter still remains
Lie la lie ...