On a prayer, In a song, I hear your voice, And it keeps me hanging on. Oh, raining down, against the wind, I'm reaching out, 'Till we reach the circl… - Garth Brooks

Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine,
Two shadows starting to softly combine.
The picture they're painting
Is one of the heart;
And to those who have seen it,
It's a true work of art. Oh, the red strokes,
Passions uncaged;
Thundering moments of tenderness rage.
Oh, the red strokes,
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn),
Burning the night like the dawn.

And the white line's getting longer and the saddle's getting cold.
I'm much too young to feel this damn old.
All my cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole,
I'm much too young to feel this damn old.

'Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart,
Fillin' up my mind and emptyin' my heart.
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows,
And I wonder if she knows...what she's doin' now.