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I should write down these words before I lose them
Or write here a song just to use them
Someday you may want to know who I am

Beyond this facade
No guitar's on my hand
No I am not a writer

These eyes hold no secrets, I’ll have no truths,
I am all I am or 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 the book that ain’t finished,
The sink full of dishes,
A 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,
Fear sits in misery, nursing another black eye.
On the New Jersey turnpike,
I’m counting the headlights
As cars just like days pass me by.

I am the fighter,
Though not a boxer by trade,
I am the fighter,
You will remember my name.

I am the fighter,
Though not a boxer by trade,
I am the fighter,
The fighter’s that’s born but not made.

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

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