April 13, 2011

Simon and Garfunkel The Boxer

I am just a poor boy 
Though my story's seldom told 
I have squandered my resistance 
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises 
All lies and jests 
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 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 ... 

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 

Lie la lie ... 

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes 
And wishing I was gone 
Going home 
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me 
Bleeding me, going home 

In the clearing stands a boxer 
And a fighter by his trade 
And he carries the reminders 
Of ev'ry glove that layed 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 

Lie la lie ...

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