Flee my friends,
Old and new,
To the land of towering pines,
And crystal clear lakes.
The land of swooping swallows,
And tranquil summer wind,
That sweeps like velvet across the amber sunsets.
Flee my friends,
To where silence reigns,
A place where peace has domain.
We have survived the cold and snow,
Where winters icy wind did blow,
And now in springs mystic light, we stand,
So let us go to that promised land.
Flee my friends,
Wake up your souls,
Let them be free,
Like the pink blossoms that blow.
