The Fighter
I should write down these words ‘fore I lose themOr write you a song just to use themSomeday you may wanna know who I am,Beyond this facade no guitar in my handNo I am not a writer
These eyes hold no secrets I hide no truthsI am all I am, all I was to youThe lie and the promise, the great escape artist,The weed in your garden in that place you’re still guardingWhere I am not a liar
I am the fighter, though not a boxer by tradeI am the fighter, few will remember my name
These are hands that can offer protectionBut hid me from my own reflectionI’m that book that ain’t finished, a sink full of dishes,The horse that ain’t winning, the priest that’s still sinningThe spark that starts the fire
I am the fighter, though not a boxer by tradeI am the fighter, few will remember my name
With loneliness next to me, feels its misery, nursing another black eyeOn the New Jersey turnpike, counting the headlightsThose cars just like days pass me by
I am the fighter, though not a boxer by tradeI am the fighter, few will remember my nameI am the fighter, though not a boxer by tradeI am the fighter, a fighter’s born but not made
I should write down these words ‘fore I lose themOr write you a song just to use them.