#47 BOXER, THE
CI am just a poor boy,
though my story's seldom atold
I have Gsquandered my resistance
For a pocketful of Cmumbles such are promises
All lies and ajest still a Gman hears
what he Fwants to hear
And disregards the C Grest C
When I left my home and family
I was no more than a aboy
In the Gcompany of strangers
In the d7quiet of a railway station Crunning scared
Laying alow seeking Gout the poorer Fquarters
where the ragged people Cgo
Looking Gfor the places Fonly ethey dwould Cknow
aLie-la-lie
GLie-la-lie la lie-la-lie
Lie la alie
GLie-la-lie la la la la Flie la la la la G Clie
Asking only workmans wages
I come looking for a ajob
But I get no Goffers
Just a d7come-on
from the whores on seventh Cavenue
I do adeclare there were d7times when I Gwas
F C
so lonesome I took some comfort there
GOoo-la-la la la la Fla la la Cla.
aLie-la-lie
GLie-la-lie la lie-la-lie
Lie la alie
GLie-la-lie la la la la Flie la la la la G Clie
CThen I'm laying out my winter clothes
G7And Cwishing I was agone
G d7 G7
Going home where the New York City
Gwinters aren't Cbleeding me
Leading ame
Going GHome
In the Cclearing stands a boxer
and a fighter by his atrade
And he Gcarries the reminders
G7 C
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
or d7cut G7him 'till he cried Cout
In his anger and his ashame
G F
"I am Leaving, I am Leaving."
But the Fighter still Cremains
G C G F C
aLie-la-lie
GLie-la-lie la lie-la-lie
Lie la alie
GLie-la-lie la la la la Flie la la la la alie