What will happen to the stories from the bogs? The trails of the Vikings? The passing of sea sirens? Is tradition holding regularly in this town? If it's going hiking Then I'm going hiking To the other places That we never had Something like a misplaced future That is old and sad With big raven What will happen to that storytelling clown? His voice hypnotizing The fireside frightening I have to travel so far just to hear his sound But I'm going hiking Are you coming hiking? What have we done what have we done? Fantasy is falling down She's breaking apart breaking apart Has she lost her number one? Throws out her hands, throws out her hands Let her tell what she can tell There's nothing to do, nothing to do, nothing to do Imagination floating around Then build it back up, build it back up What are you gonna do? Go into the forest Until I can't remember my name I'm gonna come back and things will be different I'm gonna bring back some stories and games