The Boxer by Paul Simon

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 a 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…

Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
La-la-la…

Lie-la-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…

Now the years are rolling by me
The are rocking easily
I am older than I once was
And younger than I’ll be
But that’s not unusual
No, it isn’t strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are
More or less the same

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Song About The Moon  by Paul Simon

If you want to write a song about the moon
Walk along the craters in the afternoon
When the shadows are deep and the light is alien
And gravity leaps like a knife off the pavement
And you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
Na na na na na na
Yeah yeah yeah
Presto, a song about the moon

If you want to write a song about the heart
Think about the moon before you start
Because the heart will howl like a dog in the moonlight
And the heart can explode like a pistol on a June night
So if you want to write a song about the heart
And its everlonging for a counterpart
Na na na na na na
Yeah yeah yeah
Write a song about the moon

The laughing boy, laughed so hard
He fell down from his place
Laughing girl, she laughed so hard
Tears rolled down her face
Wo wo

Hey, songwriter
If you want to write a song about a face
Think about the photograph
That you really can’t remember but you can’t erase
Wash your hands and dreams in lightning
Cut off your hair and whatever is frightening
If you want to write a song about a face
If you want to write a song about the human race
Na na na na na na
Yeah yeah yeah
Write a song about the moon

Oh oh oh oh

If you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
Na na na na na na
Yeah yeah yeah
Then do it!
Write a song about the moon

煙だ煙

何となく焦げ臭いと思っていたら、案の定電子レンジから煙が上りだした。客の数ほどいる店員は誰一人気づかない。その間にも煙は勢いを増す一方だ。いつ火災報知器が鳴るとも知れない。結局、客の自分が店員を呼び止めて状況を知らせた。途端に大騒ぎが始まった。接客など忘れてレンジに集まる野次馬のような店員たち。その一人は私にこの席は煙くさいからあっちに移動しろと命令までする始末。