The Boxer

A bruised full moon play fights with the stars

This place is our prison

It’s cells are the bars

So take me to town

I want to dance with the city

Show me something ugly and show me something pretty

Damn this place

Makes a boy out of me

The ring meets my face

By the count of three

I’m a fallen oak tree

An unwanted sun pulls rank in the sky

The boxer isn’t finished

He’s not ready to die

I’m attracted to the light, I’m attracted to the heat

It’s a violent night, there are boxers in the street.

-The Editors, “The Boxer”

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