"Exile"
In December mornings,
Cold is the cry that rings
From this far distant shore.
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.
And my path - the ocean.
My guide the morning star
As I sail home to you.
Who can quell my passion?
Out of these dreams - a boat
I will sail home to you.
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