Lyrics Broken - The Devil Wears Prada
I
hate
when
I
get
left
alone
I'm
sure
that
all
these
calls
are
getting
old
A
short
drive
(a
short
drive),
just
get
me
home
(just
get
me
home)
The
cost
is
nowhere
near
to
what
I
owe
From
the
back
of
the
car,
it's
sinking
in
Like
a
shot
of
fear
and
adrenaline
I'm
a
lost
cause
with
nothing
left
Can't
you
see
that?
My
hands
are
torn
up
from
all
these
broken
bottles
I
can't
stand,
lost
too
much
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
How
did
it
start?
(How
did
it
start?)
This
episode
(this
episode)
has
got
me
crawling
and
flying
I'm
high
and
I'm
low,
oh
I
watch
from
afar
and
make
my
bets
As
you
sit
back
and
light
a
cigarette
A
lost
cause
with
nothing
left
Can't
you
see
that?
My
hands
are
torn
up
from
all
these
broken
bottles
I
can't
stand,
lost
too
much
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
Every
day
I'm
afraid
that
I
might
find
the
bottom
My
hands
are
torn
up
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
Drink
it
down,
I'm
on
empty
Shaking
now,
please
don't
worry
It
surrounds
all
that
I
see
I'm
on
empty
My
hands
are
torn
up
from
all
these
broken
bottles
I
can't
stand,
lost
too
much
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
Every
day
I'm
afraid
that
I
might
find
the
bottom
My
hands
are
torn
up
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
I've
got
my
problems
I
know
I've
got
my
problems
1 Exhibition
2 Salt
3 Watchtower
4 Noise
5 Broken
6 Sacrifice
7 Trapped
8 Time
9 Twenty-Five
10 Fire
11 Hallucinate
12 Cancer
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