C
I'm just a poor boy
                                          Am
Though my story's seldom told
             G
I have squandered my resistance
            F                 
For a pocketful of mumbles
                     C                             
Such are promises,
                  Am
All lies and jest
          G                                 F
Still a man hears what he wants to hear,
                                 C
And disregards the rest.
         G                         C
La-la la, la-la la-la la-la la.


C
When I left my home and family
                                   Am
I was no more than a boy
              G
In the company of strangers
            F                 C
In the quiet of the railway station
                                     Am
Running scared, laying low
              C                         F
Seeking out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go,
              G                     F    Em                 C
Looking for the places only they would know.


                 Am
        Lay-la lay
                   G
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay
                 Am
        Lay-la lay
                   F                    G                   C
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay.


 C
Asking only workman's wages
                               Am
I come looking for a job
                        G
But I get no offers
            F                              C
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
            Am
I do declare
                      C              G         F
There were times when I was so lonesome
                                    C
I took some comfort there.

                Am
        Lay-la lay
                   G
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay
                 Am
        Lay-la lay
                   F                    G                   C
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay.

C
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
          C                    Am              G
And wishing I was gone, going home
                    F                                    G         C
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
             Em   Am
Leading me,
            G           C
Going home.


               C
In the clearing stands a boxer
                                  Am
And a fighter by his trade
                G
And he carries the reminders
        F                       C
Of every glove that laid him down
                    G        C
And cut him till he cried out
                                    Am
In his anger and his shame
           G                   F
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
                                  C        G   C   G
But the fighter still remains.


                Am
        Lay-la lay
                   G
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay
                 Am
        Lay-la lay
                   F                    G                   C
        Lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay-lay lay-la lay.


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