White dove

Found us in a small cafe
Happen to be out that day
To watch you go by
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
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
Happen to be out that day
To write it all down
As they fell upon the floor
You thought of all that's gone before
They went to the ground

The old man
Is 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 God
Given grace