Boxer by SIMON & GARFUNKEL
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I am just a poor boy though my stories seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies in jest, 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 poor old quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la
Asking only workmen’s wages I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come on from the war zone seventh avenue
I do declare there were times
when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la
And I am laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was calm going home
Where the New York city winter’s are
In bleeding me, leading me 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 'til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving but the fighter still remains
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la
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