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| <nl>I am just a poor boy and my storys seldom told
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| <nl>Ive squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
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| <nl>All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
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| <nl>And disregards the rest, hmmmm
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| <nl>
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| <nl>When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy
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| In the company of strangers
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| In the quiet of the railway station, runnin scared
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| Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go
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| Looking for the places only they would know
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| Li la li...
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| Asking only workmans wages, I come lookin for a job, but I get no offers
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| Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue
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| I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
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| I took some comfort there
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| Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even me
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| I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be, thats not unusual
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| No it isnt strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same
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| After changes we are more or less the same
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| Li la li...
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| And Im laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin home
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| Where the new york city winters arent bleedin me, leadin me to go home
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| In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
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| And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
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| til he cried out in his anger and his shame
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| I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
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| Yes he still remains
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| Li la li...
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