If you go back many years
Before the time was recording
Before the Northern Lights were showing
If you want to wait
For a little while
You will hear the little voice
That comes to us so very near

If you want to rest
Your aching limbs,
See the fires coming from the North
Give me your guiding hand
Let the years roll on past
Leave me your golden sands
Lt me once again last
To see the fires, for their worth.

If you go back centuries old
Watching the sky fires hold
A laughing antelope’s head
That sticks in the eye instead
That mountains will crumble into the sea
Rivers dry up thus whither the tree.

If you want to wait
For a little while
If you want to rest
Your wasting limbs
Go back many years
To the time when you go North
For centuries past
We never really last
More than one, so I’m told
When you become so very old.

If you want to stay inside of here
Rest your weary head beside each year
Well into the lasting night
Keeping your eyes out of sight
The North star will be your only light
The shape of which is our delight
From paradise the word was won
From Utopia the word was born
I tore the books limb from limb
Re-wrote every sacred hymn
For life is struggling within
The light is now becoming dim
I was dripping with a grin
Where Northern Lights are on the brim
Of gardens inside everyone’s brain.