Blockhouse Gang The Boxer
Li la li...
I am just a poor boy and my storys seldom told
Ive squandered my resistance for a pocketful of
mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to
hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm
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, runnin scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the
ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Li la li...
Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even
me
I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be,
thats not unusual
No it isnt strange, after changes upon changes, we are
more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
Li la li...
In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his
trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid
him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still
remains
I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Li la li...
