I wouldn't call it fancy
Like I would a Sunday suit
In fact the older that I get
The more that it hangs loose

The colors okay although it fades
With every passing day
A spot a blotch some borrowed, bought
It's hard to say how it was made

It happens to the best of us
The luckiest of people
That hang around long enough
To wear this suit of wrinkles

Right to left, front to back
All sides sag the same
It's certainly no secret kept
Gravity ain't playing

And with that said wear it to bed
In the morning shake it off
A stich or two may come unglued
Take it with you and move on

If you hang round long enough
Considered one of the lucky people
Happens to the best of us
Inside this suit of wrinkles

Long ago in time life drew the line
On this our  battlefield
From the lowest lows to the highest heights
Our own sinful will is what we must ****

We take to heart that this is war
Yet more often than not we lose it
Not giving heed to our greatest need
We the walking wounded

God gave every man the battle plan
The Bible for instruction
His Holy word, the flaming sword
To keep us from destruction

And yet we still rely on self
The foolishness of I can do it
Loosing Hell, tooth and nail
We the walking wounded

We're not alone when it comes
To the art of retreating
At the first sign of trouble we hide
More oft than not defeated

Jesus died to justify
And it's about time we knew it
Proclaiming Christ our battle cry
We the walking wounded

It looks like life's not treating you right
And you don't like it a single bit
How about you try this friendly advice
...Get over it

Day after day you don't get your way
Where all you want to do is quit
Lean over here so I can whisper in your ear
...Get over it

You think you're the only one with problems
That spends most of your time in the ditch
Here's a news flash, we've all got em
...Get over it

You whine and cry thru the struggles
In the midst of quivering lips
Time after time, questioning why
...Get over it

I'm not saying it can be that easy
And with all of this being said
Still stuck in repeat believe you me
...Get over it

the needle and spoon
an off kilter tune
the flick of the bic
ends up burning you
life on the run
the milking of blood
as good as done
i'm not making this up
the sinking of eyes
the pasting of skin
the mirror tells lies
at least you wish that it did
you've traded in hope
for your daily dose
keep this in mind
why they call it dope

I saw a man with a heavy sign
That harshly read the world is dying
On every street in every town
Too far too late to even count

What we have is little kept
When it comes to the environment
In this game of placing blame
Instead of doing anything

The crew who we listen too
Have more than a few of their screws loose
They dimmed the lights over the signs
While pulling the blinds down on our minds

Like the greatest of magic men
They used their slick slight of hand
Had us watching this not that
Doing tricks behind our backs

Now look and see the mess we're in
The world is sick and dying
Where today I wonder why
We need to be told by a guy with a sign

this is where
they make their stand
dreams, desires
more or less demands
she holds his heart
he holds her hand
thinks long and hard
that yes they can
although at times
they've made their bed
deep down inside
it's more un-kept
with little done
far less said
a burden to
this bird in hand
he moves her closer
to the light
the two of them
with one desire
a spark a flame
a burning fire
could these flames
reach any higher
when more is less
and less is more
the case is shut
this open door
once embraced
the when's, what for
which makes it more
hard to ignore
this fluttering
of in-between
heart to heart
this single beat
the two of them
as one set free
he with her
and she with he

It had its run when you were young
Back in your High school days
#1 it wasn't fun
#2 it was hard to escape

Everyone wants to be noticed
At least to stand out in the crowd
Every teenagers hope is
One day they'll have friends roll around

The fire burns inside fueling anguish
Lord knows the throes take their toll
Not sure how you're going to make it
In this land of Invisible

Then adulthood rolls around with its up's and down
Again not sure how you're going to make it
With so many rules being enforced by fools
And you afraid to say it

Life's 9 to 5 being the tip of the grind
You either love it or you hate it
In case you haven't heard, hates a strong word
But it's the word that perfectly explains it

If your cubicle only had a window
That might shine a glimmer of hope
Remembering  the days you tried to escape
The land of Invisible

Now that's the place that you'd love to go...