Oh white dove, you sit so angelic upon the pine. An ocean of snow below swallows you whole. And when you make your raspy call you may not ever see your kind. Yet you call for love, you call for love - little dove. Oh white dove, so hard to see upon that pine, A storm of snow blows, it may swallow you whole. And yet despite its wintry grasp you stand, alert, biding your time. And you call for love, and call for love - little dove. Oh white dove, another has joined you on your pine. The color of snow that swallows you whole. And she coos beside you, her eyes upon you, what a find. Did you find a love, did you find a love - little dove?
