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The Boxer



Текст песни Mumford & Sons - The Boxer

The Boxer
Mumford & Sons
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 jests
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

Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie la lie-la-lie
Lie la lie
Lie-la-lie la la la la lie la la la 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

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

La   laaa
La  la  laa  
Ahhh
La   laaa
La  la  laa  
Ahhh
Laa la la la

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry 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 la lie-la-lie
Lie la lie
Lie-la-lie la la la la lie la la la la lie

Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie la lie-la-lie
Lie la lie
Lie-la-lie la la la la lie la la la la lie

Lie-la-lie la lie-la-lie

Lie la lie
Lie-la-lie la la la la lie la la la la lie

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