Paul Simon - The Boxer

^CI am just a poor boy. Though my story's seldom ^Amitold, I have ^Gsquandered my resistance for a pocketful of ^Cnumbles, such are promises. All lies and ^Amijest, still a ^Gman hears what he ^Fwants to hear. And disregards the ^Crest.^G, ^{C C}When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a ^Amiboy in the ^Gcompany of strangers in the ^Dmi7quiet of a ^Crailway station running scared, Laying ^Amilow seeking ^Cout the poorer ^Fquarters where the ragged people go, Looking ^Gfor the places ^Fonly ^Emithey ^Dmiwould ^Cknow. Lie la ^Amilie, Lie la ^Glie la lie la lie lie la ^Amilie ^GLie la lie la la la la Lie ^Fla la la ^Gla ^Clie. ^CAsking only workman's wages I come looking for a ^Amijob, but I get no of^Gfers, Just a ^Dmicomeon from the ^Cwhores on Seventh Avenue. I do dec^Amilare, there were times^Dmi7 when ^GI was ^Fso lone some I took some comfort ^Cthere. Ooo la la ^Gla la la la.^C Then I'm ^Claying out my winter clothes ^G7and ^Cwishing I was ^Amigone, going ^Ghome Where the ^DmiNew York ^G7City winters are^Gn't ^Cbleeding me, Leading ^Emime, ^Amigoing ^Ghome. ^C In the ^Cclearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his ^Ami7trade And he ^Gcarries the reminders of ^G7ev'ry glove that ^Claid him down Or cut him ^Dmi7till ^G7he cried ^Cout in his anger and his sh?^Ami "I am ^Gleaving. I ^Fam leaving." But the fighter still ^Cremains.^G, ^C, ^G, ^F, ^C Lie la lie...