If you even find yourself in Norland
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You may sit and watch the moon rise over Head Lake
Or see the sun go down while children play.

Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream
The women in the kitchen baking pies
And to sit beside a campfire in the evening
And hear our people singing to the skies.

For the breezes blowing o'er the trees in Norland
Are perfum'd by the pine trees as they blow
And at supper time you'll find a place is open
If you happen by and have no place to go.

But the strangers came and tried to teach us their way.
They said we had to change our ways and name.
But we will never let them take it from us
We'll fight to keep it as it was before they came.

And if there is going to be a life hereafter,
As somehow I am sure there's always been,
I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven
In that home sweet home they call "the land between".

- by Kenneth H. Diebel