The Boxer

AI am just a poor boy though my story's seldom F#mtold
I have Esquandered my resistance
For a E7pocket full of E6mumbles, such are Apromises
All lies and F#mjest, still a Eman hears what he Dwants to hear
And disregards the Arest E, E7, E6, A

When I Aleft my home and my family, I was no more than a F#mboy
In the Ecompany of strangers
In the E7quiet of a E6railway station, Arunning scared
Laying F#mlow, seeking Eout the poorer Dquarters
Where the ragged people Ago
Looking Efor the places E7only Dthey would Aknow

CHORUS:
Lie la F#mlie, Lie la C#mlie la lie la lie, Lie la F#mlie,
ELie la lie la la la la, lie la la la la Alie.

Asking Aonly workman's wages I come looking for a F#mjob
But I get no Eoffers
Just a E7come-on from the E6whores on Seventh AAvenue
I do deF#mclare, there were Etimes when I was Dso lonesome
I took some comfort Athere

ELie lie lie lie la D, D, A
CHORUS:

Then I'm Alaying out my winter clothes and wishing I was F#mgone
GoingEhome 
Where theE7New York City wintersE6aren't Ableeding me C#m
Leading F#mme, to going Ehome E7 A

In the Aclearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his F#mtrade
And he Ecarries a reminder of ev'ry E7glove that laid him down
Or Acut him till he cried out in his anger and his F#mshame
I am Eleaving, I am Dleaving
But the fighter still reAmains mmmEmm mmmm E7 A

CHORUS: