Going to the North

The wind whistles through this old frozen railway car
I lost track some hours ago though I know we’ve come so far
We’re only going to the north to see our parents there
They’ll always find a bed for us though there is no space to spare
I can always find my own way home in the night time, in the day
The cold wind concentrates the mind and blows the blues away
There’s a star up in the north that can help you to get home
It’s been at work since the very first day from Kirkwall down to Rome
You can view things more clearly when you see them from afar
The little things they get clearer the nearer that you are
A prisoner’s road across the sea where now water drowns in sand
The same thing always calls me here that causes birds to land
There’s a magnet in the north, you’re never really gone
The lodestone it can’t help but spin and it knows where you belong