...I am just a poor boy.
Though my story's seldom told,
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles,Such are ppromises
All lies and jestStill, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
When I left my homeAnd my family,
I was no more than a boyIn the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station,
Running scared,Laying low,Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go,Looking for the places
Only they would know.......CHORUS...
Lie-la-lie....
.Asking only workman's wagesI come looking for a job,
But I get no offers.Just a come-on from the whores
On Seventh AvenueI do declare,
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.....CHORUS...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was goneGoing home
Where the New York City winters
Aren't bleeding me,Leading me,
Going home.In the clearing stands a boxer,
And a fighter by his tradeAnd 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....CHORUS...
........
***>>>..SIMON & GARFUNKEL..<<***
..................
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