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The Boxer
Paul Simon
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I am just a poor boy and my storys seldom
told
Ive squandered my resistance for a
pocketful
of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears
what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm
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,
runnin scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters,
where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Li la li...
Asking only workmans wages,
I come lookin for a job,
but I get no offers
Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so
lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me,
they are rockin even me
I am older than I once was,
and younger than Ill be, thats not unusual
No it isnt strange, after changes upon
changes,
we are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
Li la li...
And Im laying out my winter clothes,
wishing I was gone, goin home
Where the new york city winters arent
bleedin me,
leadin me to go 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
Yes he still remains
Li la li... |


May4,2009
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UB40
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