A journey, with which we attempt to look beyond our boundariesnTo answer questions asked for centuriesnWill it not only leave us with more and greater mysteriesnThat's the question, that isnWhat keeps me rowing, I'm sick of this strifenI don't know where we're going, we trusted LeifnHe said, You'll see Vineland is out therenI can take us there I know where we are goingnDon't deny your need for knowing how farnnall goes on and where the oceans endnThe autumn wind and evening tide will take us through MidgaardnStill we've sighted only sea till nownAs we sail I sometimes wonder how far to AsgaardnnGreatness lies within the silence of the oceannWhere we end is not our decisionnand though hidden, fate is fixed with no evasionnAll men should try to live for eachnDay for the evening, each week for the endneach summer for the winter, each life for the deathnTell me, does this all have a meaningnAnd Leif Ericsson just stared into the distancenAnd asked the question, How far does itnnall go on and where do oceans endnThe autumn wind and evening tide will take us through MidgaardnStill we've sighted only sea till nownAs we sail I sometimes wonder how far to AsgaardnnDagurin skín so fagurliganKomið er hægst á summarið