The last ship out of Bergen, transatlantic, U.S.A. 
The world is on the brink of a war. 
Little sister Gudrun holds her mother’s hand and prays, 
The year,  nineteen-ten and four.

Born upon an island off of Norway’s western coast, 
Headed off to other lands unknown. 
As she stares across the water, huddled in her coat, 
She whispers “Someday I’ll be coming home.”

You can sail across the ocean, over miles of desert sands, 
Any place that you may choose to roam; 
With Mother Earth beneath you, your life in heaven’s hands, 
Every step you take will lead you home.                

From New York’s Ellis Island she rode the rails out west,
Sailed a wagon ‘cross the grassy seas.
On the Minnesota prairie her journey came to rest,
And from that place she’d start a family.

The fields of Minnesota turned to California sun
And sister Gudrun came into her own.
Though new horizons waited for the woman she’d become,
A distant shore would always be her home.

You can sail across the ocean, over miles of desert sands
Or any place that you may choose to roam.
With Mother Earth beneath you, your life in heaven’s hands
Every step you take will lead you home.

Now she sleeps in silent vigil, her daughter holds her hand, 
She peers beyond the veil of heaven’s dome. 
The moon and stars a lamppost as she nears the Promised Land, 
She sighs and whispers, “I’m coming home.”

You can sail across the ocean, over miles of desert sands
Or any place that you may choose to roam.
With Mother Earth beneath you, your life in heaven’s hands
Every step you take will lead you home.
With every step you take you’re coming home.