The Fighter I never saw it coming Like a bolt from out the blue, I thought I had my guard up But the punch came sailing through. I'd done it all in training Put the footwork in, But even using two fists My defence was paper thin. The opening bell had sounded And normally as a rule You opponent doesn't hit you When you're sitting on your stool. Now I know I'm not the quickest And they say my footworks poor, But I'd beat a bloke in London So I'd had a fight before. I could hear fight fans cheering As the blows came crashing in, But like a true professional I took it on the chin. The cheering turned to booing As I was carried from the ring, I hadn't got a punch in But I wouldn't change a thing. I've seen the fight promoter And now I'm not so broke I still think I'm pretty handy For a short-arse northern bloke!
