Going To The North

The wind whistles through this old frozen railway car,
I lost track some hours ago though I know we’ve come so far,
We’re only going to the north to see our parents there,
They’ll always find a bed for us though there is no space to spare.

I can always find my own way home in the night time in the day,
The cold wind concentrates the mind and blows the blues away,
There’s a star up in the north, it can help you to get home,
It’s been at work since the very first day from Kirkwall down to Rome.

You can view things more clearly when you see them from afar,
The little things they get clearer the nearer that you are.

A prisoners road across the sea where now water drowns in sand,
The same thing always calls me here that causes birds to land,
There’s a magnet in the north, you’re never really gone,
The lodestone it cant help but spin and it knows where you belong.