Exile

Cold as the northern winds

in December mornings'

Cold is the cry that rings

from this far distant shore.

Winter hase too late'

too close beside me.

How can I chase away

all these fears deep inside?

[02:29]I'll wait the signs toe.

[01:26]I'll find a way.

[01:31]I will wait the time toe.

[01:40]I'll find a way home.

My light shall be the moon'

and my path - the ocean.

My guide the morning star'

as I sail home to you.

Who then can warm my soul?

Who can quell my passion?

Out of these dreams - a boat

I will sail home to you.