To you,oh dangerous road
Who sweeps many a traveler off of their feet,
Carry me off to distant lands
That I might see the beauty
That is laid alongside you
Before my short journeys end;

Upon that end allow me peaceful rest
On the most distant mountain
Under the line ancient oak
Gazing at the setting sun
Waiting for the light of moon and stars
To bathe me as I enter a deep slumber

And dream of damp, wet days
With darkened grey skies
Miles over fields of green
Populated with mighty cedars,

Who provide a dry shelter
For those upon the ground
Who call the moist soil their home;

Wake me softly with your rain,
And make me speechless
To see that my calming vision
No longer is a wild fantasy
That I could only see within my mind.