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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.