the boxer- simon and garfunkel
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.
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 station,
running scared,
laying low,
seeking out the poorer quarters
where the ragged people go,
looking for the places
only they would know.
choruslie-la-lie.....
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.
chorus 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 carries the reminders
of ev'ry glove that laid 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
by eric 1 7 2002

Quiet歌词

Paul Simon

简介： 保罗·西蒙(Paul Simon)，1941年10月13日生于美国新泽西州的纽瓦克，从小崇拜歌星普莱斯利，十一、二岁时开始学习唱歌和弹吉它，16岁时与中学同窗好友阿特·加芬克尔(Art Garfunk

the boxer- simon and garfunkel

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.

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 station,
running scared,
laying low,
seeking out the poorer quarters
where the ragged people go,
looking for the places
only they would know.
choruslie-la-lie.....

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.

chorus 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 carries the reminders
of ev'ry glove that laid 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

by eric 1 7 2002