{title: The Boxer}
{subtitle: Simon and Garfunkel}

[C]I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom [am]told,
I have squan[G]dered my resistance for a [G7]pocket full of mumbles, such are [C]promises.
All lies and [am]jest, still a [G]man hears, what he [F]wants to hear,
and disregards the [C]rest[G][G7][C].

[C]When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a [am]boy,
in the [G]company of strangers in the [G7]quiet of a railway station [C]running scared,
laying [am]low, seeking [G]out the poorer [F]quarters, where the ragged people [C]go,
looking [G]for the places [F]only they would [C]know.

{soc}
[C]Lie-la-[am]lie, lie-la-[em]lie-la-lie-la-lie lie-la-[am]lie, [G]lie-la-lie-la-la-la-la [F]lie-la-la-la-la-[C]lie.
{eoc}

[C]Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a [am]job, but I get no [G]offers,
just a [G7]come-on from the whores on Seventh [C]Avenue.
I do de[am]clare there were [G]times when I was [F]lonesome, I took some comfort [C]there. [G]Oh[G7]la[C]la.

[C]Then I'm laying out my winterclothes and wishing I was [am]gone, going [G]home -
where the [G7]New York City winters aren't [C]bleeding me[em], leading m[am]e, going [G]home[G7][C].

[C]In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his [am]trade, 
and he [G]carries the reminders of [G7]ev'ry glove that layed him down
or [C]cut him till he cried out in his anger and his [am]shame.
"I am [G]leaving, I am [F]leaving!" But the fighter still rem[C]ains[G][F][C].