Can you hear her high above?
She's been talking for so long,
In the mountains freezing cold,
With the mirrors of the soul
And her hands hold the ground
Did she tell you old sweet tales?
Did she beg you to stop and stay?
Feed the forest to your head,
Drink the water of the plains
'Cause her trail you have found
O, sweet mother! Set me free,
With your feathers, next to me,
Sing the joy of the fields,
Bring a quiet ecstasy
Don't think now, watch it burn