With broken hands, I work all day.
With a broken heart, I cry.
My life has been nothing but promises and lies,
In these never ending times.
With words from this broken heart,
I mend the wounds that start.
On the souls of the young,
With the words I once sung.
Shall shed there light,
Creating to others a delight.
I still sit with broken hands and a broken heart.
I wonder will the time to mend this broken heart start?
I'll sing my song to help others heal their pain.
But for me the ache, and brokenness of my life will always seem to hang.
