I'd rather cry than lie,
I'd rather die than shy;
The star children dance in the sky,
I'm waiting for a certain reply.

I'll blind my mind,
I'll never find my mind;
So,take me,the gentle north wind,
At the back of the north wind.

I'd rather stray than stay,
I'd rather pray than say;
The air fairies sing on the hay,
I'm waiting for a certain day.

I'll blind my mind,
I'll never find my mind;
So,take me,the gentle north wind,
At the back of the north wind.