The Hitter

Come to the door ma and unlock the chain
Well I was just passin' through and got caught in the rain
There's nothing that I want, nothin' that you need say
Just let me lie down a while and I'll be on my way

I was no more than a kid when you put me on the southern queen
With the police on my back I fled to new orleans
Well I fought in the dockyards for the the money that I made
And the fight was my home and any blood was my trade

Baton rouge, bonty do and lafayette town
They payed me the moon, ma, to knock the man down
Well I did what I did, yeah it come easily
For as know ma, restraint and mercy were always strangers to me

I fought champion jack thompson in a field full of mud
Rain poured through the tent canvas and mixed with our blood
In the twelfth, slipped my tounge over my broken jaw
And I pounded his body into the floor
Well the bell rang and rang and still I kept on
'Til I felt my glove leather slip 'tween his skin and bone

And the women and the money came fast and the days I lost track
The women red, the money green, but the numbers were black
I fought for the men in their silk suits to lay down their bets
Well I took my good share, ma, I have no regrets

I took the fixed staid hombre with big diamond don
Well from high in the rafters I watched myself fall
He raised his arms, stomach twisted, and the sky it went black
I stuffed my bag with their good money, ma, and never looked back
Understand me and my, every man plays the game
Well if you know anyone different then speak out his name

My life, my face, now you don't recognize
Well just open the door and look into your dark eyes
I ask of you nothin', not a kiss not a smile
Just open the door and let me lie down for a while

Now the gray rain is fallin' and my ring fightin's done
So in the work fields and alleys, I take them who'll come
If you're a better man than me then just step to the line
Show me your money and speak out your crime
There's nothin' I want, ma', nuthin' that you need say
Just let me lie for a while and I'll be on my way

Well tonight in stockyard, a man draws a circle in the dirt
I move to the center and take off my shirt
I study him for the cuts, the scars, the pain, no time can erase
I move hard to the left and I strike to the face



Credits
Writer(s): Bruce Springsteen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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