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, hmmmm
When I left my home and my family, I's 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
[Hook]
Lie la lie
Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin' for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
[Hook]
Lie la lie
I am older than I once was
And younger than i'll be that's 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
And I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone
Goin' home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me, leadin' me
Goin' home
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
[Hook]
Lie la lie
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, hmmmm
When I left my home and my family, I's 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
[Hook]
Lie la lie
Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin' for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
[Hook]
Lie la lie
I am older than I once was
And younger than i'll be that's 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
And I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone
Goin' home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me, leadin' me
Goin' home
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
[Hook]
Lie la lie
Track 6 on Bridge Over Troubled Water
Track 14 on Babel
