| A journey, with which we attempt to look beyond our boundaries
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| To answer questions asked for centuries
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| Will it not only leave us with more and greater mysteries
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| That’s the question, that is
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| What keeps me rowing, I’m sick of this strife
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| I don’t know where we’re going, we trusted Leif
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| He said, «You'll see Vineland is out there
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| I can take us there I know where we are going
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| Don’t deny your need for knowing how far
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| All goes on and where the oceans end
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| The autumn wind and evening tide will take us through Midgaard
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| Still we’ve sighted only sea till now
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| As we sail I sometimes wonder how far to Asgaard
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| Greatness lies within the silence of the ocean
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| Where we end is not our decision
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| And though hidden, fate is fixed with no evasion
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| All men should try to live each
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| Day for the evening, each week for the end
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| Each summer for the winter, each life for death
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| Tell me, does this all have a meaning
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| And Leif Ericsson just stared into the distance
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| And asked the questions, «How far does it
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| All go on and where do oceans end
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| The autumn wind and evening tide will take us through Midgaard
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| Still we’ve sighted only sea till now
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| As we sail I sometimes wonder how far to Asgaard
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| Dagurin skín so fagurliga
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| Komið er hægst á summarið |