Little Love, rest your head upon this quiet, empty bench I will lay upon the green at your feet should you find it fit to speak, I have brought you my best ears should our tongues grow tired, we've our mouths to kiss Little Love, in a world that's spun fearfully cold it's trite to bear your misleading name. for your heart has burned white through your life's winter years through the eyes of the sun your glow can't be missed