Fight

It will cold smack you in the face No regard, no respect, just a hard, straight right Now you're confused and staggered so you look to plead your case But no one cares so you better learn how to fight So put your 'dukes' up and start sticking and moving Did you think or could anyone think you would be a pugilist? A mobile punching bag receiving blow after blow but you ain't losing You're standing in the big ring, showing your worth with powerful fists In this ring, blows will accost you in the late-night hour Rudely snatching your sleep and leaving ugly bags underneath your eyes The next day you're in a fog with no zest or power Trying to find reason or reasons for your seeming demise It will grab you and place you in a chokehold Just sucking the life from your chest And cause you to spend lonely nights in a hospital where the corridors are cold Even after you've been released and you return home, you soon find there is still no rest So fight! Fight you must and will do Endure round after round and pound after pound When you stand in this ring, you must see it through Spectators are watching with prying eyes, just wondering if you will go down