Open the gate to the red land   Alcan Road, by the turquoise lake   Starry skies, a mushroom cloud   Folding waves in a foamy tide      Washing in beds of opal shells   White gulls cry for you and I   Butterflies float away   Drift in pools of salt and brine      Mountain man, frosted child   Eagles cry, puppets of God   Strung like time molded in form   Trees bend back and trails distort      It leads to the land of Alcan Road   The turquoise lake and starry skies   Mushroom clouds, flowing   Drift in pools of salt and brine