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 he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his 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.
And he sits in a 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 view,
And life went on no matter who was wrong or right. OHHHHHHHH

And there´s always a place for the angry young man,
With his fist in the air and his head in the sand.
And he´s never been able to learn from mistakes,
So he can´t understand why his heart always breaks.
And his honor is pure and his courage as well,
And he´s fair and he´s true and he´s boring as hell-
And he´ll go to the grave as an angry old man.

There´s always a place 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 he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross-
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.