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, lie la la la lie lie Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la 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 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 Leading me Going home La la la la La la la la La la la la 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 till he cried out In his anger and his shame I am leaving, I am leaving But the fighter still remains Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie --- The Boxer - Jerry Douglas, Paul Simon and Mumford & Sons