a gentle rain on a warm nightnhits the glass as I drive bynthe distant lights of a town's eyenthat pulls on me insidennhow I wish words I could saynto bring this all to better daysnbeyond beauty's gracenbeyond this agennthe more you tire the more you can't sitnthe more you bleed the more you get hitnwill anybody arise to save younwhen the man arrives to claim you?nwhen the debt comes due?nnhow I wish words I could saynto bring this all to better daysnbeyond beauty's gracenbeyond this agennbeyond this age