Faraway from home and lost with the wild
the mystical fog has surrounded my sight
From seeing the road that lies ahead.
should I despair and sensed be in fright?
My predicament has left me in dread.

Fog slowly suffocates me from my breath.
In my anguish, I cry out to the Lord,
“This path could lead me to my imminent death!
I’ve no guts to walk through the forlorn fog.
Must I walk alone through gravel road and sward?”

Through the smoky fog, a Lyre Bird flutters-
fans his feathers in majestic manner
and sings sweetly like warm days of summer.
Has the lord listened and made his answer?
In the fog, the dusk of doubts dissipate.

Though I walk on this unforeseeable path,
My body burns with vitality of hope
as I've finally found faith in the fog