In a gym in Philadelphia
Boys with street hungry eyes flick jabs at your moving brown form
In a circled ring of chance.Sweat hangs in the air like the sad
Truth of poverty.If they get pass you the sweet smell of success is guaranteed.For the scared don't get rich
You made good,born the ******* of misfortune
Dreaming of riding past the old neighborhood in a custom made car
Meeting beautiful long haired women with even white teeth
Maybe in your dreams you saw boxing gloved foes
Falling by the the score.But defeat and loss chased you down
Dead -end alleyways of lonely tears and the walls of your mind
Seemed about to collapse as you ran under a sky of broken dreams
And tossed away chances with closed eyes afraid you were dying
From large blows to the soul
A body worn and a collection of years of being struck
How many times have I seen you hanging over the ropes
Completely wiped out of cash and hope like a voice lost
In the rumbling of a subway train speeding past
tenements of Philadelphia