Broken

He's got a broken voice and a twisted smile

Guess he's been that way now for quite awhile

He's got blood on his shoes and mud on his brim

Did he do it to himself or was it done to him?Now people say that he don't look well

But all he needs from what I can tell

Is someone to help wash away all the paint

From his purple hands before it gets too lateI saw him stand alone under a broken street light

So sincere singing Silent Night

But the trees they were full and the grass was green

It was the sweetest thing I had ever seenHe may move slow

That don't mean he's going nowhere

He may be moving slow

That don't mean he's going nowhere