| O my love is light as a dove
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| Her skin is fair and dark is her hair
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| And her eyes dart 'round and fall on the ground
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| And her lips move along to an old country song
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| Down south you will find among the high pines
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| An old liquor store where we danced on the floor
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| O the light on the wall, it brightens the hall
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| But the room in the back is quiet and black
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| What keeps me alive is the green in her eyes
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| And the sweet distant drone of her voice on the phone
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| Could I hear, in death, her voice and her breath?
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| Could I hear them sounds in life underground?
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| O lightly she walks among the white storks
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| And, crane in her neck, she steps from the deck
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| Could I bow in the sand to your lily white hand?
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| Can my head gently rest in your lily white breast?
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| O my love is light as a dove
|
| Her skin is fair and dark is her hair
|
| And her eyes dart 'round and fall on the ground
|
| And her lips move along to an old country song |