The boxer
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
[05] 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
[10] Lie la lie, lie la la la lie 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 7th Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
[15] I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me
They are rockin’ evenly
I am older than I once was
And younger than I’ll be; that’s not unusual
[20] Nor is it 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
[25] 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
[30] 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
PAUL SIMON and ART GARFUNKEL
Adaptado de genius.com.
where the ragged people go (l. 8)
In the text, the underlined words refer to the following social group: