About the song
Paul Simon’s “The Boxer” is a poignant folk rock ballad that delves into themes of loneliness, poverty, and resilience. Released in 1969 as a standalone single and later included on the iconic album Bridge Over Troubled Water, the song has solidified its place in the annals of popular music.
Drawing from Simon’s personal experiences and reflections, “The Boxer” paints a vivid portrait of a solitary individual grappling with the challenges of life. The lyrics, imbued with a sense of introspection and vulnerability, resonate with listeners on a profound level. Simon’s evocative imagery and poetic language create a rich tapestry of emotions, inviting us to contemplate the universal human experiences of struggle and perseverance.
The song’s musical arrangement is equally compelling, featuring Simon’s distinctive guitar playing, Art Garfunkel’s harmonious vocals, and a haunting refrain that lingers in the mind. The rhythmic interplay between the acoustic guitar and the snare drum adds a sense of urgency and tension, mirroring the emotional turmoil expressed in the lyrics.
“The Boxer” has endured as a timeless classic, transcending generations and cultural boundaries. Its enduring appeal lies in its ability to connect with listeners on a deeply personal level, offering solace and inspiration in the face of adversity. The song’s message of resilience and hope continues to resonate with audiences today, making it a testament to the enduring power of music.
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Lyrics
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
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-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-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
I took some comfort there, la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Then 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 till 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-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie-lie
I love you