Far, far away

Хэтфилд
Far, far away where the birch wouldn't grow
Far, far away where you won't be alone
I would rather fly with eagles to the snow hills
I would rather run with wolves between the trees

So far away, my mind flies to the moon
Far, far away, I can see what happens soon
I would rather be with my old wise trees
Than in the middle of these noisy streets
Far, far away...