This city has a silver lining, but can never feel like home.
I was born on the seaside on midsummer's eve.
The snow is melting on the mountain, and the river runs through me.
Like the river is bound to the ocean, you are bound to me.
The spring is now upon us, I can feel it in my blood.
If May may come with sunshine winter is on the run.
Every mile I have travelled, just searching for my roots.
I guess you've gotta see the world to find your way back home.
In the deep of the forest, the light has yet to come.
There's a meadow there with flowers still waiting in the ground.
One day I'll build my house there, on that solid ground, and my children will run across the meadow barefoot in the sun.
And I will find peace at last, and stay there for my days to come.
My wife will stand beside me as she did through the hard times.
Time can never be recovered, and when my work here is done, I will join my forefathers and rest beside them in the ground.
My children will bring me flowers, in the springtime every year, from the meadow in the forest and there will be no tears.
When the memory of me, slowly fades away, and my name is the name of a stranger I shall no longer stay.
My spirit will go back to the seaside, where I once was born, and I will watch one last sunrise and then disappear down the shore.

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