Calloused

My armor ain't what it used to be
Scratched and dented the exterior begins to resemble what's within
I've spent a lot of time staring back at myself and I think if the boy I
Was could see the man I've become he'd spit right in his face

The scales have tipped against me one more time
But the panic comes in a hush and a sigh not a scream or cry
The scales have tipped against me for their final time
I've wasted so much time waiting
Waiting for a tradgedy or a miracle to reveal itself that the world has passed me by

Convinced myself that I'm sick for so long
Now that I'm not sure I can stop believeing it
Gotta lift my head from the calloused hands
That serve to remind me of my regrets
So I can see the good in whats goin on

Don't want to waste anymore ink on this page or strokes of the keys
Not one more hammer of the letter to spell out this quiet rage
No, my armors not what it used to be, but what in this life still is?