The Fighter

I should write down these words ‘fore I lose them

Or write you a song just to use them

Someday you may wanna 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 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

Those 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’s born but not made

I should write down these words ‘fore I lose them

Or write you a song just to use them.