This is my congregation.
These are my words to you,
Made of sugar, spice and everything that's nice.
You live a life of rain and everything insane.
In a heartbeat passed all my days abroad.
Beautiful as I've been told, but it only takes a bit of vemod,
bit of nostalgia, to fortify my [bad word]  my restrained feelings,
In my summer sojourn.
But that brief visit was a reconnaissance flight.
Now all hope remains in transit.
So, hold your protectorate and my arrival will not be in vain.
In memory of our rainy, nevertheless beautiful, svensk sommar...