The Boxer

(Paul Simon)



I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told

I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles

Such are promises all lies and jest

Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.



Well, 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.

Li li li li...



Only seeking 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

In a laying out my winter clothes and wishing

I was home going home

Where the New York City winters

Aren't bleeding me, bleeding me, going home.

Da da da da...



In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade

And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down

And cut him till he cried out in his danger and his shame

I am leaving I am leaving but the fighter still remains.

Li li li li...