| You’ll meet many just like me upon life’s busy street
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| With shoulders stooped and heads bowed down 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 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 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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| Now 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 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 you start
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| For the God that made you made them too these men with broken hearts |