Angry Young Man

There's a place in the world for the angry young man With his working cla*s ties and his radical plans He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl and he's always at home with his back to the wall. He's proud of the scars and the battles he's lost He struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross And he likes to be known as the angry young man. Give a moment or two to the angry young man With his foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand He's been stabbed in the back, he's been misunderstood It's a comfort to know his intentions are good He sits in a room with a lock on the door with his maps and his medals laid out of the floor And he likes to be known as the angry young man. I believe I've pa*sed the age of consciousness and righteous rage, I've found that just surviving was a noble fight I once believed in causes too, had my pointless point of view Life went on no matter who was wrong or right. And there's always a place for the angry young man With his fist in the air and his head in the sand He's never been able to learn from mistakes He can't understand why his heart always breaks His honor is pure, and his courage as well he's fair and he's true, and he's boring as hell And he'll go to his grave as an angry old man. There's a place in the world for the angry young man With his working cla*s ties and his radical plans He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl and he's always at home with his back to the wall. He's proud of the scars and the battles he's lost He struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross And he likes to be known as the angry young man