I am just a poor boy.

Though my sto ry’s sel dom (Am)told, I have (G)squan dered my re sis tance for a pock et ful of mum bles, such are (C)prom is es.

All lies and (Am)jest, still a (G)man hears what he (F)wants to hear, and dis re gards the (C)rest.

When I left my home and my fam i ly, I was no more than a (Am)boy in the (G)com pa ny of stran gers in the qui et of a rail way sta tion (C)run ning scared.

Lay ing (Am)low, seek ing (G)out the poor er (F)quar ters where the rag ged peo ple (C)go, look ing (G)for the plac es (G)on ly they would (C)know.

Lie la (Am)lie,

lie la (G)lie la lie la lie lie la (Am)lie

lie la (G)lie la la la la lie la la la la (C)lie.

Ask ing Lead ing (Em)me,

go ing (G)home.

In the (C)clear ing stands a box er, and a fight er by his (Am)trade, and he (G)car ries the re mind ers of ev ’ry glove that laid him down or (C)cut him till he cried out in his an ger and his (Am)shame, “I am (G)leav ing, I am (F)leav ing.” But the fight er still re mains.

Lie la (Am)lie,

lie la (G)lie la lie la lie lie la (Am)lie

lie la (F)lie la la la la lie la la la la (Am)lie,

lie la (G)lie la lie la lie lie la (Am)lie

lie la (F)lie la la la la lie la la la la (C)lie.