Broken Things

Why do you like broken things?

It's not something that I can easily explain.

Because when a bird sings

My heart doesn't soar, I can hear her pain.

See...

Broken is my first name. Hurt is my last name

Pain is my middle name

I know your demons because I share the same

I know that look because I also... have the same

I have this obsessive need.. To fix them

Because maybe... That means I can fix myself

I want to be the one to love them

Because... then I can pretend that picture on the shelf...

That smiling person in the image is still true

So baby let me fix you... Who else will?'

Who else will love you with all that baggage

Who else will stick around... still?

Why is this song being sang over and over?

And as I say these words it's not you

That I'm saying them to

These words I so desperately want to hear

Being whispered in your ear

I am just as broken as you

Just as torn up as you... Cast aside

That is why... I am so drawn to you

That is why... I need to fix you, because I've tried

To fix myself... I've tried to feel love...

But something holds me back and like a dove

My hope flies away on a cloud of despair

Exhaled like a breath of stale air

I see myself in you... I see myself... Thrown away

That look in your eyes as I piece you together

I can pretend... That it's mine okay?

That little bit of light amidst all this grey weather

Is what I so desperately long to see

Even if it isn't mine, even if my heart isn't soaring

Even if I can't be fixed... Even if I'm still just me

And they could care less, that this rain is pouring

on my head,

Because I was too busy making sure that they were shielded from it...