White Dove

Found us in a small cafe

Happened to be out that day

To watch it go by

It came to pass that we shall be

Early signs of victory from out of their eyes

If you lay your guns to ground

Feel the weight of coming down

Fall from your mind

Something that I ought to say to take away the pain of day

I'm leading the blind

Old man drifting won't you carry me out of this place

Found us in a small cafe

Happened to be out that day

To write it all down

As they fell upon the floor

Thought of all that's gone before

They went to the ground

The old man drifting won't you carry me out of this place

The white dove is rising to the sound of your god given grace

To the sound of your god given grace