Where the Lands are Low

I want to go where the lands are low

And it always smells like rain.

I want to go where the soft winds blow

And the past can live again.

I want to go where the willow boughs

dip gently in the pond.

I want to go where the rivers flow

by the dykes that stretch far on.

I want to go where the windmill sails

Turn steadily in the air.

I want to stroll through the picturesque vale

And smile without a care.

I want to walk on the cobblestones

By canals in photograph towns.

I want to walk past the red brick homes

That wear thatched roofs as crowns.

I want to go where the world feels right

And everything is green.

I want to go where all is beautiful,

Where the world is refreshed and clean.

I want to be where I feel I can breathe,

Where nature lives on in good health.

I want to go there and never leave,

I want to relish in nature’s wealth.

I want to go where the wildflowers grow

in abundance at every turn.

I want to go where the lands are low

I want to go and never return.

My love, my life, my homeland

I sing praise unto thee.

My love, my life, my homeland

I pray you'll set me free.