Punchdrunk

It wore him down; his head was hanging sideways His lids were slits This happened almost nightly now He raised the gloves and waited for another round He waited for the bell to ring He prayed the lord would save his eyes He heard church-folk swaying and sighing "it's all right". He liked his kids He liked his sky-blue Valiant, he liked the pay "The boss' fine young talent" they all would say And just a pension later he'll be free Do what he wants. Bereave the dream, now sleep Now slowly die. (Lie l-lie, lie l-lie lie lie l-lie)