I am just a poor boy

though my stories seldom told

I have sqondered my existence

for a pocket full of mumbles such are promises

all eyes in just still a man hears

what he wants to ear and disregards the rest



(chorus)

lie la lie...



asking only workmans wages

I come looking for a job but I get no offers

just a comon from the whores on 7th avenue

I do declare

there where times when I was so lonesome

I took some comfort there

la la lie lie lie lie lie



(chorus)



now 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 home, going home



In the clearing stands a boxer

and a fighter by his trade

as he carrys the reminder

of every glove that layed 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 remains



(chorus