Johnny was a fighter and he fought a noble fight with all his strength and might.

The Boxer

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go

Looking for the places only they would know
Lie-la-lie
Asking only workman's wages

I come looking for a job

But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lie-la-lie

Now the years are rolling by me

They are rockin' evenly
I am older than I once was
And younger than I'll be; that's not unusual
Nor is it strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lie-la-lie
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes

And wishing I was gone

Going home

Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Leading me
Going home
In the clearing stands a boxer

And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
Mm-mm-mm
Lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie

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Peter, Paul & Mary – Stewball LyricsOh Stewball was a racehorse, and I wish he were mine.
He never drank water, he always drank wine.

His bridle was silver, his mane it was gold.

And the worth of his saddle has never been told.

Oh the fairgrounds were crowded, and Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy on the bay and the mare.

And a-way up yonder, ahead of them all,
Came a-prancin' and a-dancin' my noble Stewball.

I bet on the grey mare, I bet on the bay
If I'd have bet on ol' Stewball, I'd be a free man today.

Oh the hoot owl, she hollers, and the turtle dove moans.
I'm a poor boy in trouble, I'm a long way from home.

Oh Stewball was a racehorse, and I wish he were mine.
He never drank water, he always drank wine.

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From Guys and Dolls

I got the horse right here, the name is Paul Revere.

And here's a guy that says that if all weather's clear,

Can do, can do, this guy says the horse can do.
If he says the horse can do, can do, can do.
I picked the Valentine, cause on the Morning Line,
The guy has got em figured at five to nine
But take the Epitaph, he went to buy a half,
He's got it cold in here in the Telegraph.
About Rivera's fight, I guess the sport's alright
Suppose it all depends if it rained last night.
I know it's Valentine, the morning works were fine
You know the jockey's brother is a friend of mine
But just a minute, boys, I got the feedback's choice,
It says the great grandfather was Aqua Poise.
I give you Paul Revere, and it's no bum steer
It's from a man right here that's real sincere
I picked my Valentine cause on the Morning Line
The guy has got em figured at five to nine
But take the Epitaph, he went to buy a half,
He's got it cold in here in the Telegraph.
Epitaph, Valentine, Paul Revere, I got the horse right here.

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Johnny could recite this poem from memory and tried so hard to live by its words

The Village BlacksmithBallads 

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands. 

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man. 

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low. 

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor. 

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice. 

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes. 

Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose. 

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

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From the time I was a little girl, Johnny sang me this song..

The most beautiful sound I ever heard
Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria
All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word
Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria

I've just met a girl named Maria
And suddenly that name will never be the same to me
Maria, I've just kissed a girl named Maria
And suddenly I've found how wonderful a sound can be

Maria, say it loud and there's music playing
Say it soft and it's almost like praying
Maria, I'll never stop saying Maria
Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria

Maria, say it loud and there's music playing
Say it soft and it's almost like praying
Maria, I'll never stop saying Maria
The most beautiful sound I ever heard
Maria

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Johnny never wore his heart on his sleeve and so it is befitting to add just one more song...

 That's Life 

That's life (that's life), that's what all the people say
You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm back on top, back on top in June

I said that's life (that's life), and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down
'cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life (that's life), I tell you I can't deny it
I thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself layin' flat on my face
I just pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life (that's life), that's life and I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cuttin' out but my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothin' shakin' come this here July
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball a-and die

My, my!

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rocky raccoon...

now rocky raccoon he was a fool unto himself,
and he would not swallow his foolish pride.
mind you, coming from a little town in minnesota,
it was not the kind of thing that a young guy did when
a fellow went and stole his chick away from him.
now rocky raccoon checked into his room
only to find gideon's bible.
rocky had come equipped with a gun
to shoot off the legs of his rival.
his rival it seems had broken his dreams
by stealing the girl of his fancy.
her name was magill, and she called herself lil,
but ev'ryone knew her as nancy.

now she and her man, who called himself dan,
were in the next room at the hoe-down.
and rocky burst in and grinning a grin,
said, danny boy, this is a showdown.
but daniel was hot, he drew first and shot
and rocky collapsed in the corner - ah.

the doctor walked in, sminking of gin (sminking?!)

proceeded to lie on the table.
he's really sminking of gin,
and it did him in the end, poor doc.
meantime, back on the table, yeah,
the doctor said, rock, you've met your match, son.
rocky said, it's only a scratch, so i'll be better soon.
you better be better soon, said the doc.
come on, son, gotta get hip, gotta get up, gotta get back
to your gun, gotta go and shoot that danny boy.

however, rocky raccoon, he fell back in his room
only to find gideon's bible.
gideon checked out and left it no doubt
to help with good rocky's revival - ah.

and that's the story of the rocky raccoon, yeah.

hey!

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Our Grandfather Giovanni shared his love for opera . Johnny loved Italian Culture and language. I remember sending him CDs so he could study Italian and on my way to work, he would repeat his lesson to me and ask if his pronunciation was accurate. 

Johnny's loved La Tosca and E lucevanle stelle was his favorite aria: 

E lucevanle stelle, Ed olezza vala terra Stridea l'uscio dell'orto E un passos fiorava la rena. Entrava ella fragrante, Mi cadeafra la braccia.  O dolcibaci, o languide carezze, Mentr'io frementele belle forme disciogliea dai veli! Svanì per sempreil sognomio d'amore. L'ora è fuggita, e muoiodisperato! E muoio disperato! E non ho amato mai tantola vita! Tanto la vita!