Welcome to the salvage store,
last chance for damaged goods;
By now you know the hype was all a lie.
You see, I've been here for a while,
stacking souls in different piles,
You can call me caretaker if you like.
Stilettos on the left side, wingtips on my right.
The rest of them fall somewhere inbetween.
Well we all wear out with use,
and our souls take such abuse,
Tired shoes, can't remember what they've seen.
Every size and color, designer brand or plain,
Now they share each others company;
You see, I try the best I can,
to bring healing with these hands,
A second chance before they rest in peace.
Stilettos on the left side, wingtips on my right.
The rest of them fall somewhere inbetween.
Well we all wear out with use,
and our souls take such abuse,
Tired shoes, can't remember what they've seen.
As I watched the old caretaker,
wearing sandals made from scraps;
It was clear to me I was unworthy to undo their straps
Stilettos on the left side, wingtips on my right.
The rest of them fall somewhere inbetween.
Well we all wear out with use,
and our souls take such abuse,
Tired shoes, can't remember what they've seen.
Well we all wear out with use,
and our tounges give such abuse
Tired shoes, give your souls to Him

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