Angels Without Wings

I broke down on the shoulder. And the rain was beating down.

Good days seemed all over. Hope was nowhere to be found. Then an old

Ford eased up with a window halfway down. He said, "Son,

you look like you need a lift on into town." I didn't know

his name, but there was mercy in his smile. Looking back,

I swear the road turned brighter by the mile. 'Cause angels don't always spread

their wings. It's mercy in the moment, not the halo that you see.

Might be a worn-out flannel or a coffee from a store. You feel a