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Cold is 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. who then can warm my soul? who can quell my passion? out of these dreams -- a boat. I will sail home to you. Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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