I am just a poor boy and my story's seldom told I've 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 workman's 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 I'll be, that's not unusual No it isn't 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 I'm laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin' home Where the new york city winters aren't 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
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