Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

صوت


واجهه المستخدم


مستوى الصعوبة


لهجة



لغة الواجهة

ar

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
التسجيل / تسجيل الدخول
Lyrkit

يتبرع

5$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

10$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

20$

Lyrkit

و/أو ادعمني في مواقع التواصل الاجتماعي. الشبكات:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Ben Howard

The Boxer

 

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, 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, 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 lie la lie, la la lie 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 7th Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Now the years are rolling by me
They are rocking evenly
I am older than I once was
And younger than I'll be; that's not unusual
Nor is it strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same

Lie la lie, lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie, lie la lie la lie la lie, la la lie la lie

And I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me, leading me
Going 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

Lie la lie, lie la lie la lie la lie
Lie la lie, lie la lie la lie la lie, la la lie la lie

منتهي

هل قمت بإضافة كل الكلمات غير المألوفة من هذه الأغنية؟