Pissing in the Wind

Sometimes it Feels Like im Pissing in the Wind Now 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, tears for fears- We sold our souls for souvenirs. 3 years building, semi demolishing ... We are really just battling father time, within a Ziploc 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 weve chosen is paved and lighted, less baggage and no static.