Title: The boxer
Subtitle:
Artist: Paul Simon
Album: Best of
Author: Paul Simon & Garfunkel
Copyright:
Tabled by: tizeph
Instructions:
Notices: Paroles (lyrics)

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
And disregards the rest.

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 la lie la lie lie la lie
Lie la lie la la la la
Lie la la la lie
Lie.

Asking on ly work man'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.
Ooo 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 are n'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 ev'ry glove that laid
him down
Or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving" but the fighter still remains

Lie la lie,
Lie la lie la lie la lie lie la lie
Lie la lie la la la la
Lie la la la lie
Lie.


















































































































Tempo: 185 BPM
Tracks: 2
Instruments:
Bars: 60

Lyric

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 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, runnin' scared.
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters,
Where the ragged people go.
Lookin' for the places, only they would know.

Lie-la-lie ...

Asking only workman's wages I come lookin' 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.
Oooh 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 bleedin' me.
Leadin' me, to goin' 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.

Lie-la-lie ...