I am the comfortable secure
The definition of this western world
And I have perfected deceit
Even I believe I am above saving
And I'll never let You see

I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used

It takes me falling to the ground
To admit to fully needing You
Then when I'm breathing my last breath
Come and save me, I will cry to You
'Cause pride has not let me say

I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used

Why does it take so much to bring me to my knees?
Why does it take so much pain for me to see?
If strength is only found when I am on my knees
Why is it so hard to show that I am weak?

I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used