The Boxer
Jerry Douglas"The Boxer" is a song by Jerry Douglas, released in 2012 in the Pop genre. The song is 2:47 long and contains 36 lines and 206 words.
Lyrics
0:09I am just a poor boy
0:11Though my story seldom told
0:14I squandered my resistance
0:16For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
0:20All lies and jests
0:22Still a man hears
0:23What he wants to hear
0:25And disregards the rest
0:31When I left my home and my family
0:33I was no more than a boy
0:35In the company of strangers
0:38In the quiet of the railway stations running scared
0:42Laying low seeking out the poor quarters
0:46Where the ragged people go
0:48Looking for the places
0:50Only they would know
1:08Asking only workman's wages
1:10I come looking for a job
1:12But I get no offers
1:15Just a come on
1:16From the whores on seventh avenue
1:19I do declare there were times
1:22When I was so lonesome
1:24I took some comfort there
1:30Then I'm laying down my winter clothes
1:33And wishing I was home going home
1:37Where the New York City winters
1:40Are bleeding me bleeding me going home
2:29In the clearing stands a boxer
2:32And a fighter by his trade
2:34And he carries the reminder
2:37Of every glove that laid him down
2:39And cut him till he cried out
2:42In his anger and his shame
2:44I am leaving I am leaving
2:47But the fighter still remains
I am just a poor boy Though my story seldom told I squandered my resistance For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises All lies and jests 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 the railway stations running scared Laying low seeking out the poor 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 Then I'm laying down my winter clothes And wishing I was home going home Where the New York City winters Are bleeding me bleeding me going home In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminder 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
Translation
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