Текст песни Bob Dylan - The Boxer

Self Portrait
Жанр: Classic Rock
Исполнитель: Bob Dylan
Альбом: Self Portrait
Длительность: 02:48
Рейтинг: 495
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Seagal


I am just a poor boy Though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance For a pocketful of mumbles Such are promises All lies and jest Still a man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest La-la-la When I left my home and family I was no more than a boy In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railroad station Running scared Laying low Seeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go Looking for the places only they would know La-la-la Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job But I get no offers Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue I do declare There were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there Oh la-la-la La-la-la Then I'm laying out my winter clothes And wishing I was gone, going 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 trade And he carries the reminder Of every glove that's laid him low And cut him till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remains La-la-la La-la-la
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