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Exile
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Enya
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Cold as the northern winds In December mornings Cold is the cry that rings From this far distant shore Winter has come too late Too close beside me How can I chase away All these fears deep inside? I'll wait the signs to come I'll find a way I will wait the time to come I'll find a way home My light shall be the Moon And my path - the ocean My guide the morning star As I sail home to you
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