I am the comfortable secure
The definition of this western world
And I have perfected deceit
Even I believe I am above saving
I'll never let you see
I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used
It takes me falling to the ground
To admit to fully needing you
Then when I'm breathing my last breath
Come and save me, I will cry to you
Cause pride has not let me say
I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used
Why does it take so much to bring me to my knees
Why does it take so much pain for me to see
If strength is only found when I am on my knees
Why is it so hard to show that I am weak
I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used