[Intro:Katie Melua]
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled, oh
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled
My way home, wasn't the place I
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled, oh
[Verse 1:Luke Christopher]
Yeah, I keep having this dream
Would you just sit there underneath the tree?
Your momma is on drugs, saying shit she don't mean
And you're begging to your father, please don't pack up and leave
But he keeps saying
Baby it's not your fault, baby it's your moms
We shouldn't have had kids yet, it wasn't our time
And you keep screaming, bullshit
He just turns around
Take your hands to your face, and your knees to the ground
Growing up without a father and a mother who's a junkie
Pain in your eyes, trying to hide that you love me
Tears running dry, so you lie to yourself
Like forever ever ever, I can hide from myself
But you're wrong, I think it's time you write a song
So here it goes
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled, oh
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled
My way home, wasn't the place I
Broken people get recycled
And get recycled, oh
[Verse 1:Luke Christopher]
Yeah, I keep having this dream
Would you just sit there underneath the tree?
Your momma is on drugs, saying shit she don't mean
And you're begging to your father, please don't pack up and leave
But he keeps saying
Baby it's not your fault, baby it's your moms
We shouldn't have had kids yet, it wasn't our time
And you keep screaming, bullshit
He just turns around
Take your hands to your face, and your knees to the ground
Growing up without a father and a mother who's a junkie
Pain in your eyes, trying to hide that you love me
Tears running dry, so you lie to yourself
Like forever ever ever, I can hide from myself
But you're wrong, I think it's time you write a song
So here it goes
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