I am just a poor boy Though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises. All lies and jest 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 a railway station running scared. Laying low seeking out the poorer quarters Where the ragged people go Looking for the places only the would know. Lie la lie lie la lie lie lie la lie Lie la lie Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie. Asking only workmans 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 la la la la la.        Lie la lie lie la lie lie lie la lie Lie la lie Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie. 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 Bleeding me ____ Going home.   In the clearing stands the boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders Of Every glove that layed 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.             Lie la lie lie la lie lie lie la lie Lie la lie Lie la lie la lie la lie la la la la lie.