He was young when I first saw him, maybe 19 or so

And I knew that he could go places, he'd never dreamed he'd go

There was a certain something, impossible to hide

Dynamite in both his hands, he swept 'm all aside



So they nicknamed him The Killer, and he lived up to that name

The guys who tried to fight him, never came out quite the same

And man, the crowd just loved him, in those up and coming days

Carried him on their shoulders, while they showered him with praise



Well they loved him like a brother, 'cause he gave 'm all the thrills

Carin' shit about no self defence, only going for the kill

He took a beating now and then, but stood there young and tough

Never thougt of backing up, when the going got too rough



He came down like a shockwave, the title easlily won

He just tore in there man, punching, taking two and landing one

Like a constant drip of water, wears down the hardest stone

And we all saw it coming, the inevitable fall

The nigt he lost his title, and the title wasn't all

He just started slippin', and down skids slicker than grease

His drawing power faded, and the hero-worship creased

But he could't stop the fighting, custom-made for the trade

While he blew away the money, on friends succeses had made

I saw him fight again last night, I wish I had been spared

The sight of that poor old wreck, from who nobody cared



His eyes had lost their sparkle, his legs had lost their spring

And really it was pathetic, the way he strumblet thru' the ring

While an upstart punched him dizzy, punched him silly bell to bell

The lust mad hungry wolf-pack, rode him to a far-ye-well

Here's the same punks, who once worshipped his shrine when he was king

Calling him a cowasr, as he was groping 'roun