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You'll meet many just like me upon life's busy street |
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With shoulders stooped and heads bowed low and eyes that stare in defeat |
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Or souls that live within the past where sorrow plays all parts |
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Where a living death is all that's left for men with broken hearts |
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You have no right to be the judge to criticize and condemn |
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Just think but for the grace of God it would be you instead of him |
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One careless step a thoughtless deed and then the misery starts |
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And to those who weep death comes cheap these men with broken hearts |
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Oh so humble you should be when they come passing by |
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For it's written that the greatest men never get too big to cry |
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Some lose faith in love and life when sorrow shoots her darts |
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And with hope all gone they walk alone these men with broken hearts |
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You've never walked in that man's shoes or saw things through his eyes |
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Or stood and watched with helpless hands while the heart inside you dies |
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Some were propers some were kings and some were masters of the arts |
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But in their shame they're all the same these men with broken hearts |
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Life sometimes can be so cruel that a heart will pray for death |
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God why must these living dead know pain with every breath |
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So help your brother along the road no matter where he starts |
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For the God that made you made them too these men with broken hearts |
