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Paul Simon - The Boxer
Author And Composer: Thomas Owen Mostyn Rowlands, Edmund John Simons and Timothy Allan Burgess
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I am just a poor boy
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Though my story's seldom told
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I have squandered my resistance
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For a pocketful of mumbles
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Such are promises
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All lies and jest
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Still, a man hears what he
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Wants to hear
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And disregards the rest
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When I left my home
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And my family
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I was no more than a boy
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In the company of strangers
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In the quiet of the railway station
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Running scared
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Laying low
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Seeking out the poorer quarters
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Where the ragged people go
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Looking for the places
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Only they would know
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Asking only workman's wages
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I come looking for a job
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But I get no offers
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Just a come-on from the whores
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On Seventh Avenue
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I do declare
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There were times when I was
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So lonesome
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I took some comfort there
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Then I'm laying out
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My winter clothes
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And wishing I was gone
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Going home
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Where the New York City winters
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Aren't bleeding me
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Leading me
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Going home
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In the clearing stands a boxer
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And a fighter by his trade
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And he carries the reminders
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Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
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Or cut him till he cried out
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In his anger and his shame
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"I am leaving, I am leaving"
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But the fighter still remains
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Printed at -
