The Graduations Hang On The Wall, But

You Can Linger Too Long In Your Dreams.

You Only Beat Me If You Get Me To Hate.

The Piano Sounds Like A Carnival And The Microphone Smells Like A Beer. And They Sit At The Bar And Put Bread In My Jar And Say, Man, What Are You Doing Here?

I Believe There Is A Time For Meditation In Cathedrals Of Our Own.

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.