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