Ice is slick, sliding on it can put us in a trick.

I'm still sliding,
but I'm not hiding.
I'm right out in the open,
positively coping.
The devil got his door open wide,
hoping I lose in the slide.

I've already slipped,
many years my mind tripped.
I don't trip anymore,
at least I know the score.
My game is tight,
I'm trying to do what's right.

Each man will eventually fail,
maybe come real close too hell.
Long as we don't go in,
we can still somewhat win.
The devil holds us on fear,
each day I feel him near.
I'm no longer afraid,
I accept the price Jesus paid.

G