He was young when I first saw him, maybe 19 or so
And I knew that he could go places, he'd never dreamed he'd go
There was a certain something, impossible to hide
Dynamite in both his hands, he swept 'm all aside
So they nicknamed him The Killer, and he lived up to that name
The guys who tried to fight him, never came out quite the same
And man, the crowd just loved him, in those up and coming days
Carried him on their shoulders, while they showered him with praise
Well they loved him like a brother, 'cause he gave 'm all the thrills
Carin' shit about no self defence, only going for the kill
He took a beating now and then, but stood there young and tough
Never thougt of backing up, when the going got too rough
He came down like a shockwave, the title easlily won
He just tore in there man, punching, taking two and landing one
Like a constant drip of water, wears down the hardest stone
And we all saw it coming, the inevitable fall
The nigt he lost his title, and the title wasn't all
He just started slippin', and down skids slicker than grease
His drawing power faded, and the hero-worship creased
But he could't stop the fighting, custom-made for the trade
While he blew away the money, on friends succeses had made
I saw him fight again last night, I wish I had been spared
The sight of that poor old wreck, from who nobody cared
His eyes had lost their sparkle, his legs had lost their spring
And really it was pathetic, the way he strumblet thru' the ring
While an upstart punched him dizzy, punched him silly bell to bell
The lust mad hungry wolf-pack, rode him to a far-ye-well
Here's the same punks, who once worshipped his shrine when he was king
Calling him a cowasr, as he was groping 'roun
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