I am just a poor boy Though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles Such are promises All lies and jest Still, a man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm
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 Running scared Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters Where the ragged people go Looking for the places only they would know
Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job But I get no offers Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there
Then 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 Going 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 till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remainsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
