The Boxer

I am just a poor boy.

Though my story's seldom (Am)told, I have (G)squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles,

such are (C)promises.

All lies and (Am)jest, still a (G)man hears what he (F)wants to hear,

and disregards the (C)(G)rest.

(C)When I left my home and my family,

I was no more than a (Am)boy in the (G)company of strangers in the quiet of a railway station (C)running scared.

Laying (Am)low, seeking (G)out the poorer (F)quarters where the ragged people (C)go,

looking (G)for the places only they would (C)know.

(Am)Lielalie, (G)(Am)lielalielalielalielielalie (G)lielalie la la la la lie la la la la (C)lie.

(C)Asking Leading (Em)me,

(Am)going (G)home.

In the (C)clearing stands a boxer,

and a fighter by his (Am)trade,

and he (G)carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down or (C)cut him till he cried out in his anger and his (Am)shame,

"I am (G)leaving, I am (F)leaving."

But the fighter still remains.

Liela (Am)lie, (G)(Am)lielalielalielalielielalie (F)lielalie la la la la lie la la la la (Am)lie,

(G)(Am)lielalielalielalielielalie (F)lielalie la la la la lie la la la (C)lalie.