My Dove, My Lamb Phosphorescent

I remember evenings when my dad would sing
Hiding in the hallway, I am listening
Keeping still my body until it’s borne aloft
Her hair is soft, and her breath is soft, and her name is soft
Gathers me completely in her sighing hands
My dove, my dove, my lamb

Born with ocean thunder underneath our veins
Lonelier than cows left standing in the rain
Holy when our weight into the waves is tossed
Though ships get lost, and fish get lost, and names get lost
She will wait to greet me where it meets dry land
My dove, my dove, my lamb

So careful of that language, babe, some words are stones
They’ll lead you out from town and leave you all alone
Past the mirrored diamond mares that run all night
Where Camptown​ ladies sing that song aw come, aw wry
Low they sing it sweetly so I’ll understand
My dove, my dove, my lamb

Though my sight be near and though my way be long
Though the light I chase be disappeared by dawn
I have seen her standing on the roofs at night
I have seen her silver figure bathed and bright
I have seen her sleeping in the cold white sand
My dove, my dove, my lamb