“If only, if only,” the woodpecker sighs,
“The bark on the tree was just a little bit softer”
While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,
He cries to the moo-oo-oon, “If only, If only.”
If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun and all that’s gone by.
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly,
Fly high, my baby bird, my angel, my only.