Ooooh, the forest hums at dawn,
Where moss and mist entwine as one.
The trees speak softly, roots below,
Of secrets only shadows know.

Ooooh, the elk stride through the pines,
In lands where winter never dies.
The air is thick with whispered lore,
Of ancient paths and worlds before.

Ooooh, the northern lights arise,
Like spirits dancing in the skies.
In every branch, in every stone,
The forest sings, a song unknown.