The Boxer

The Boxer - Studio Sunset

He is just a poor boy

Though his story's seldom told

He has squandered his 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

Mmm

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When he left his home

And his family

He was no more than a boy

In the company of strangers

In the quiet of the railway station

Running scared

Laying low

Seeking out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go

Looking for the places

Only they would know

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Asking only workman's wages

He came looking for a job

But he got no offers

Just a come-on from the whores

On Seventh Avenue

I do declare

There were times

When he was so lonesome

He took some comfort there

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Then he's laying out

His winter clothes

And wishing he was gone

Going home

Where the New York City winters

Aren't bleeding him

Leading him

Going 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 till he cried out

In his anger and his shame

"I am leaving I am leaving "

But the fighter still remains

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