I am just a poor boy
though my stories seldom told
I have sqondered my existence
for a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
all eyes in just still a man hears
what he wants to ear and disregards the rest
(chorus)
lie la lie...
asking only workmans wages
I come looking for a job but I get no offers
just a comon from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare
there where times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
la la lie lie lie lie lie
(chorus)
now I'm laying out my winter clothes
and wishing I was gone going home
where the New York city winters aren't bleeding me
leading me home, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer
and a fighter by his trade
as he carrys the reminder
of every glove that layed him down
or cut him till he cried out
in his anger and his shame
I am leaving I am Leaving
but the fighter still remains
(chorus
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