Archive for April 10th, 2012

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

The Boxer by Paul Simon

I am just a poor boy,
Though my story’s seldom told,
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.

When I left my home
And my 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.

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.

Now the years are rolling by me
They are rocking evenly
I am older than I once was
And younger than I’ll be and that’s not unusual.
No, it isn’t strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same.

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,
And cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame,
“I am leaving, I am leaving.”
But the fighter still remains.

From: http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=2751

Date: 1968

By: Paul Simon (1941- )