Exile

Cold as the northern winds
In december mornings,
Cold is the cry that rings
From this far distand shore.

Winter has come too late
Too close beside me.
How can I chase away
All these fears deep inside?

Ill wait the signs to come.
Ill find a way
I will wait the time to come.
Ill 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.

Ill wait the signs to come.
Ill find a way.
I will wait the time to come.
Ill find a way home.

Who then can warm my soul?
Who can quell my passion?
Out of these dreamsqa boat
I will sail home to you.