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)