ZAHAROV ARCHITECT - WHO I AM

You saw my name on the worn-out tag,
You know the scar under my left sleeve.
You heard my laugh at the corner store, you know I left,
But I came back clean.
No need to ask; you read my face, every little move,
You know my pace.
I walk in slow, you feel that flame; before I speak,
You call my name.
You know who I am, you know who I am, you know who I am,
You know who I am.