The Boxer - Live
Well, I am just a poor boy
Though my story's 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
(Hmm, mmmm)
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
Laying low
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
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 (lalala, la, lalala)
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la
And I'm laying out my winter clothes
Wishing I was gone, goin' home
Where the New York city winters aren't bleedin' me
Leadin' me going home
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminder
Of every glove that laid him down or cut him 'til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
Well I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes, he still remains
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la
Lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la-lalala-la
Though my story's 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
(Hmm, mmmm)
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
Laying low
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
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 (lalala, la, lalala)
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la
And I'm laying out my winter clothes
Wishing I was gone, goin' home
Where the New York city winters aren't bleedin' me
Leadin' me going home
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminder
Of every glove that laid him down or cut him 'til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
Well I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes, he still remains
Lalala, lalala-lala-lala
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la
Lalala, lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la
Lalala-la-lala-la-lalala-la-lalala-lalala-la-lalala-la
Credits
Writer(s): Edmund John Simons, Timothy Allan Burgess, Thomas Owen Mostyn Rowlands
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
Altri album
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