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)