Lost . . . And broken beaten and trialed you don't know what it's like but you say you know what I'm going through you say you can help you say I'm not alone . . . You say that you'll always be there just like you always have but now you're gone so what do I do? You took what I cherished most and stabbed it twisted it to your will and then cut it now I'm at my last string the last strand before my heart bursts before I can't do this anymore and you took your knife one last time and cut it now I'm here lost and broken beaten and trialed sitting alone having to pick myself up again for the thousandth time and where are you? You're in your deluxe yacht sipping martinis while you watch everything around you burn in misery and agony but yet we still don't know who won sure you got it all but you have to live with knowing what you did to me knowing that if you gave one ounce of actually caring that I would be fine and not torn down and gone into the dust . . .
