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 they would know.
[Припев:] lie 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 7th avenue I do declare there where times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there la la la la la la la
[Припев:] lie 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 leading me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carrys a reminder 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