The Call Of The Mountains (MFIT)

Against the waves, with out swords in our hands
Against the sea, with our backs to the walls
Against distress, in the presence of our enemies
Against the storms, roaring at our faces

A cry rang out throughout the skies
A beckon, the flight of the cranes

The call of the mountains
The call of the Alps
The call home
The tune in our hearts
The song of the mountains

What's that stir, so blatant in our sallying hearts?
What's that urge, that lifted up our longing eyes?
What's that ring, echoing from the leaden skies?
What's that augur, resounding from the lyre's strings?

A cry rang on in the sibilant winds
A behest, the outcry of the cranes