(Capo 2nd fret)
        A
          A                                                                A/G#    F#m
            I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told
                       E                                                  E7
            I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles
                           A                                F#m
            Such are promises, all lies and jest
                       E                             D                                                    A      E  A
            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
                          E                      D                                                     A
            Seeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go
                            E                    D                        A
               looking for the places only they would know

                                     F#m        C#m
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie, la-lie
                                     F#m         E                 E7                A
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-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
                               E                           D                                                     A      E  A
            There were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there
                                 *Interlude*    (verse)

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

            Then I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone
            Going home where the New York City winters
                        A              C#m         F#m
            Aren't bleeding me - leading me
                      E      A
            Going home

            In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade
            And he carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down
               or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame
            On Seventh Avenue - I do declare
                      E                   D                                                 A        E  D  A
            "I am leaving, I am leaving," but the fighter still remains

                                     F#m        C#m
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie, la-lie
                                     F#m        E                  E7                F#m
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-la-lie
                                     C#m
                           Lie-la-lie-lie-lie, la-lie
                                     F#m        E                  E7                F#m
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-la-lie

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

                           Lie-la-lie-lie-lie, la-lie
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-la-lie
                           Lie-la-lie-lie-lie, la-lie
                           Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-la-lie...