I am just a poor boy
|
Though my story is seldom told
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I have squandered my resistance
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For a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
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All lies and jest
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Still a man hears what he wants to hear
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And disregards the rest
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When I left my home 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, runnin' scared
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Layin' low, seekin' out the poorer quarters
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Where the ragged people go
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Lookin' for the places, only they would know
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Lie-la-lie
|
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Asking only workman's wages
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I come lookin' for a job
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But I get no offers, just a come on
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From the whores on Seventh Avenue
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I do declare there were times
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When I was so lonesome
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I took some comfort there
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La, la, la, la, la, la, la
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Lie-la-lie
|
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And I'm layin' out my winter clothes
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And wishin' I was gone, goin' home
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Where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me
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Leadin' me home, goin' home
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In the clearing stands
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A boxer and a fighter by his trade
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And he carries the reminders
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Of every glove that laid him down
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Or cut him 'til he cried out
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In his anger and his shame
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"I am leavin', I am leavin'"
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But the fighter still remains, still remains
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Lie-la-lie
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-----------------
|
The Boxer
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| Deana Carter |
