The Boxer

I am just a poor boy

Though my story is 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

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

runnin'scared

Layin'low seekin'

out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go

Lookin'for the places

only they would know

la...

Asking only workman's wages

I come lookin'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...

And I'm layin'out my winter clothes

And wishin'I was gone goin'home

Where the New York City

winters aren't bleedin'me

Leadin'me home goin'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 'til he cried out

In his anger and his shame

I am leavin'I am leavin'

But the fighter still remains

still remains

la...