Wendigo

My home’s way up to the north they say

Where the hunter may die all alone

Red men have told a legend so old

Of death whose sound is a moan.

Chorus:

I fly where the forest meets the sky

I race the northern wind where I go

My feet are on fire as I run and I cry

My name is Wendigo.

Where I walk are the prints of my feet

They burn through ice and snow

And the hunter who sees looks above in the trees

It’s the mark of the Wendigo.

Chorus.

White lakes and trees in the moonlight

A sound so lonesome and low

Is it the wind, or a cry in the night?

Wendigo, Wendigo.

Lyrics Submitted by Θαλεια Σαμαρα