I'm walking the streets going from bar to bar.
There's just no way to hide this scar.
This scar is nothing you can see at all;
it lies deep within my soul.

This wound was not made by any weapon,
and it grew bigger in every place I stood on.
To cut the **** I'll tell you the truth.
The people; they killed my dreams and my mood.

They said I was worthless. They said I was weak.
They said I couldn't do a miserable trick.
Their words hurt my spirit. Their words hurt my heart.
They were just about to bring me apart.

They were still attacking, but I wouldn't care.
I had wasted my time; it just wasn't fair.
I found a way to avoid all their bullets:
To live my own life. Don't care for their comments.

So I walk the streets going from bar to bar,
and I'm not even ashamed of this scar.
It is a memoir of a battle long won;
it tells me that life is still going on.