Shopworn

Shopworn and aged, what's left of a man
Will never be useless 'cause he's part of God's plan

Did you ever think of life as just a shop along the street
And yourself as a product displayed in easy reach?
You laid there for some quite some time now and pondered at your fate
Then you begin to wonder if you'd hit the market late

Wealth had looked you over once and seen you at your best
But somehow you didn't fit his needs, so he took one of the rest
Sweet love had read your label, and you lingered in her mind
But competition caught her eye, and she left you there behind

Fame had brushed the edges of the counter where you laid
And she pondered for a moment, but then she walked away
Lady Luck had even picked you up, but this you heard her say
"I just can't afford you, so I'll just have to let you lay"

Then one day they marked you down, and put you up on sale
And you got looked over once again, all to no avail
Now stained with yellow and marked with age, you heard a salesman state
"Boss, I guess I'll throw this out, it's old and out of date"

The keeper of the shop came then, and he seemed to understand
He smiled and looked you over, then held out a caring hand
"Give me that I'll take it home, don't throw it on the street"
It's old and gray, but in its way, it made my shop complete

Shopworn and aged, what's left of a man
Will never be useless 'cause he's part of God's plan