The Fighter
I should write down these words before I lose them
Or write you a song just to use them
Some day you’ll may want to know who I am
Beyond this facade no guitar in my hand
No I am not a writer
These eyes hold no secrets I hide no truths
I am all I am all I was to you
The lie and the promise
The great escape artist
The weed in your garden
In that place you’re still guarding
Where I am not a liar
I am the fighter
Though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter
Few will remember my name
These are hands that can offer protection
But hid me from my own reflection
I’m the book that ain’t finished
The sink full of dishes
A horse that ain’t winning
That priest that’s still sinning
That spark that starts the fire
I am the fighter
Though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter
Few will remember my name
With loneliness next to me
Fear sits in misery
Nursing another black eye
On the New Jersey turnpike
I’m counting the headlights
As cars just like days pass me by
I am the fighter
Though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter
Few will remember my name
I am the fighter
Though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter
A fighter is born but not made
I should write down these words before I lose them
Or write you a song just to use them