Gordon Lightfoot, "Restless"

The lake is blue, the sky is gray, the leaves have turned to gold
The wild goose will be on her way, the weather's much too cold
When the muskie and the old trout too have all gone down to rest
We will be returning to the things that we love best

Do you get that restless yearning

When you think about your Dad
And the scrimshaw that he had
Of an old schooner rovin' 'neath a sky that's ironclad

There's a kind of a restless feeling and it catches you off guard

As we gaze off at the distance through the trees in my backyard
I can feel that restless yearning of those geese as off they roam
Then trade that for a warm bed and a place I can call home