I′m just a poor boy

Though my story's seldom told

I have squandered my resistanceFor a pocketful 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

Runnin′ scared

Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go

Looking for the places only they would know

Well lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie, lie-lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie, lie-lie-la-lie

La-la-la-la-lie

Asking only workman's wages

I come lookin' for a job

But I get no offers

Just a c′mon from the whores on

Seventh Avenue

I do declare

There were times when I was so lonesome

I took some comfort there

And I′m laying out my winter clothes

And wishing I was gone

Goin' home

Where the New York City winters aren′t bleedin' me

Leading me

Going home

Well la-la

La-la-la-la

La-la-la-la

La-la-la-la

La-la-la-lie

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 ′til he cried out

In his anger and his shame

"I am leaving, I am leaving"

But the fighter still remains

Well lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie, lie-la-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie-la, lie-la-lie

La-la-la-la-lie

Lie-la-lie, lie-la-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie-la, lie-la-lie

La-la-la-la-lie

Lie-la-lie, lie-la-la-lie

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie-la, lie-la-lie

La-la-la-la-lie