The Boxer — Simon And Garfunkel

I'm 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 mh -- mh.

When I left my home and family I was no more than a boy in the company of strangers in the quiet of a railway station

running scared. Laying low seeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go looking for the places only they would know.

Lie-la-lie ...

Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job

but I get no offers

just a comeon from the hores on Seventh Avenue. I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there oh la la la la la la.

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 mh -- mh.

In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade

and he carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger an his shame: I am leaving, I am leaving! but the fighter still remains mh -- mh.