CARMEN JONES

CARMEN JONES
Thanks a lot, I’m sure glad to be –
to be where I can see
so many friends of mine.
How am I doing,
how am I doing?
If you really want to know the truth, I’m doing fine.
Seventeen decisions on a row,
and only five on points,
the rest was all K.O.
Jackson and Johnson, Murphy and Bronson,
one by one they come and one by one to dream they go.

How’s it done, you ask me how’s it done.
I’ve got a trainer-man,
who taught me all I know.
Sure feels good to have him in my corner,
hear his voice that’s whispering low:
“Big boy, remember, you must remember:
Stand up and fight until you hear the bell,
Stand toe for toe, trade blow for blow.
Keep punting till you make your punches tell,
Show that crowd what you know,
Until you hear the bell,
Stand up and fight,
Stand up and fight like hell.”

When you fight the ring to open air,
In a patch of light
The ring looks small and white.
All  in the darkness, all in the darkness
You can feel a hundred thousand eyes seeing the night.
Cigarettes are floating in the dark
and making pokes and darts
around the baseball-park.
People are quiet. Then there’s a riot.
Someone throws a punch and plants it smack in the mark.

Someone’s hurt, you kind ’a think it’s you
You hang across the ropes,
it’s all you want to do.
Then you look around and see your trainer’s eyes
begging you to see it through.
They say, remember, big boy, remember:
Stand up and fight until you hear the bell,
Stand toe for toe, trade blow for blow.
Keep punching hard until you hear the bell,
That final bell, until you hear the bell.
Stand up and fight,
Stand up and fight like hell.