The Boxer . . . .Paul Simon

C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Em/B . .Am
I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told . . .
. . . . . . . . . . G. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C
I have squandered my resistance . . . .For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises
. . .Em/B . .Am. . . . . . G. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .F. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C. . . G . F . Dm . C
All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family, was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers In the quiet of the 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 la-lie lie la-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 ...lie la lie...
And I am 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 till he cried out
In his anger and shame, I am leaving, I am leaving, But the fighter still remains hmm hmm
lie la lie, ....

*The above file is this author's own work and
represents his interpretation of this well-known
song. This file may only be used for private study,
scholarship, or research.