How does it feel to carry those scars there upon your face How does it feel to be a stranger in your native place You’re too old to be young But yet too young to grow old Just stand your own ground, man Even if the world is sold
What does it take to carry all that shame deep in your heart? What does it take to turn a raw sketch into a piece of art? It’s too late to be young But it’s yet too early to grow old Just stand your own ground, man Even if the world is sold