The Boxer
Paula Fernandes
Cifras

(capo 2ª casa)

A                                                  F#m
I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told.
                E
I have squandered my resistance,
                                                         A
For a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises.
                  F#m
All lies and jest.
           E                       D                                                   A  E A
Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.

A                                                         F#m
When I left my home and my family I was no more than a boy,
            E
In the company of strangers,
                                                  A
In the quiet of a railway station, runnin' scared.
           F#m              E                       D
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters,
                                       A
Where the ragged people go.
            E                 D         E                A
Lookin' for the places, only they would know.

          F#m         C#m
Lie-la-lie Lie-la-lie-la-la-la-lie
          F#m         D                 E            A
Lie-la-lie Lie-le-lie-la-lie-la-la-la-la-la-lie

                                              E       F#m
Asking only workman's wages I come lookin' for a job,
                   E
But I get no offers,
                                                                  A
Just a come-on from the s on Seventh Avenue.
             F#m                  E                        D
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome,
                                  A                     E
I took some comfort there la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

A                                                              F#m
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone,
           E                                                                   A
Going home, where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me.
F#m            C#m         E       A
Bleadin' me, to goin' home.

A                                                        F#m
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade,
              E
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down,
      A                                                               F#m
Or cut him 'til he cried out in his anger and his shame,
             E                D
"I am leaving, I am leaving."
                                  A     E A
But the fighter still remains.