Well, I kept pennies and dollars and diamonds
Stitched in the mattress of mine
Trusted the worth of a woman
Who married a bottle of wine
She fell from the grace of her bottle
Drunk off the riches she stole
Into the shadows she scurried
With emptiness keeping her whole
Raymond's writing a novel
Into the stories of old
Only a memory, only in mind
Searching for the gold
I put all my strength to the pedal
Ran from the weight of my past
Married by Grace in New England
Lived in the love we amassed
While Graceless was counting her pennies
Her bottle was waiting to strike
Betraying the chance of redemption
It whittled itself to a knife
Raymond's writing a novel
Into the stories of old
Only a memory, only in mind
Searching for the gold
I'd rather have grace than be graceless
I'd rather have faith than be faithless
The Northlands were kind to the speaker
A place he could wonder and wed
He soon lost the name of the stealer
Who took all the gold from his bed
While Graceless was dancing with anger
Her bottle was taking a note
Jealousy kindly awaits her
And it soon made way for her throat
Raymond's writing a novel
Into the stories of old
Only a memory, only in mind
Searching for the gold
Said, I'd rather have grace than be graceless
I'd rather have faith than be faithless
I'd rather have grace than be graceless
I'd rather have faith than be faithless