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If I could pack and run from here,
I would long since have left my home.
It's a wreck here, unwelcoming.
It is a battle dome.

The bitter frost that lines the floor
I want it to melt away.
Break to pieces, make it drift.
I do not want to stay.

Leave behind this old life;
Wouldn't that be sublime?
Let me go and leave me be.
It is up, I say, your time.

Take my north! Ride the winds!
Listen to my song.
I can say one hundred percent.
That is where I belong.