Norah Jones - Broken

He's got a broken voice,
And a twisted smile,
Guess he's been that way now,
For quite a while,

He's got blood on his shoes,
And mud on his brim
Did he do it to himself,
Or was it done to him,

Now people say,
That he don't look well,
But all he needs,
From what I can tell, Is someone to help,
Wash away all the pain,
From his purple hands,
Before it gets too late,

I saw him standing alone,
Under a broken streetlight,
So sincere,
Singing silent night,

But the trees they were full,
And the gras was green,
It was the sweetest thing,
I had ever seen,

He may move slowly,
That don't mean he's going nowhere,
He may be moving slowly,
That don't mean he's going nowhere