| 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, |
| 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 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. |
| 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. |
| 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. |
| But 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. |
| (synthesizer solo) |
| 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, |
| 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 the cross- |
| And he likes to be known as the angry young man. |