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, but disregards the rest
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm
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
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
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
La-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
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 'til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving but the fighter still remains
Mm-mm-mm
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie