There's a place in the world for the angry young man

With his working class 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

And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost

And struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross

And 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

And he sits in his room with a lock on the door

With his maps and his medals laid out on the floor

And he likes to be known as the angry young man



I believe I've passed the age of consciousness and righteous rage

I found that just surviving was a noble fight

I once believed in causes too

I had my pointless point of%