Karaoké The Boxer Gerry Guthrie

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I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told

I've squandered my existence

On a pocket full of mumbles such are promises

All lies in jest 'till a man hears what he wants to hear

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Well I left my home and family

I was no more than a boy in the company of strangers

In the quiet of the railway station runnin' scared

Layin' low, seeking out the poor quarters

Where the ragged people go looking for the places only they would know

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Seeking 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

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In a' laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was home going home

Where the New York city winters aren't a' bleeding me bleeding me going home

In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders

Of every bloke that laid him down or clept him 'till he cried out in his anger and his shame

I am leaving

I am leaving but the fighter still remains

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