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A mystical place, not far from here

under northern starry skies

my heart has now found its home

In sorrow and darkness, compassion resides

for the lonesome in disguise

lakes and forests call me home

Land of sorrow, tribe of the earnest

In silence they dream, under northern lights

passion resides hidden in their hearts

I long for the land of thousand lakes

Somber display and facades so gray

an honest man in disarray

in solitude, he finds his way

trudging in melancholy

Wooden cottage, lonely island

paradise for the hopeless poet

autumn meadow, nature at window

memory shall guide me to

Miles to go, to walk alone

the dawn may never rise

but I can feel the northern wind

showing me the way

Years may go, before I know

that I have reached the shore

to sail away, up north the bay

to the land of ice and snow

Land of sorrow, tribe of the earnest

in silence they dream, under northern lights

passion resides hidden in their hearts

I long for the land of thousand lakes