Pissing in the Wind

How can we bag up time and hold it hostage? So the days float away like rain drops down a storm drain. No more time for lies, just two souls along for the life ride. Hand in hand, fears for fears. Tears for tears We sold our souls for souvenirs. 3 years building, semi demolishing ... We are really just battling father time. Within a zip lock bag, I give it attention. Time slips through my fingers, and it reminds me of your hair. These early morning hours, cold reminds me of despair. What is time? Not an enemy or a friend; this path we've chosen is paved and lighted, less baggage and no static.