Cold as the northern winds in December mornings,
Cold is the cry that rings from this far distant shore.
Winter has come too late too close beside me.
How can I chase away all these fears deep inside?
I'll wait the signs to come.
I'll find a way I will wait the time to come.
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.
I'll wait the signs to come.
I'll find a way I will wait the time to come.
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.