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.
Lie la lie, lie la lie lie, lie la lie,
Lie la lie,
Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie.
Asking only workmans 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, oeh la la la, la la la laa.
Now the years are rolling by me,
they are rockin' even me
I am older than I once was,
and younger than I'll be, 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
Lie la lie, lie la lie lie, lie la lie,
Lie la lie,
Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie.
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,
Bleeding me ____ Going home.
In the clearing stands the boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of Every glove that layed 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 lie, lie la lie,
Lie la lie,
Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie.