The Fighter Paroles

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 that book that ain’t finished, a sink full of dishes,
The horse that ain’t winning, the priest that’s still sinning
The 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, feels its misery, nursing another black eye
On the New Jersey turnpike, counting the headlights I am the fighter, though not a boxer by trade
I am the fighter, a fighter’s born but not made

I should write down these words ‘fore I lose them
Or write you a song just to use them.