When apples still grow in November When blossoms still bloom on each tree When leaves are still green in December It's then that our land will be free
I wander your hills and your valleys But still through my sorrow I see A land that has never known freedom And only her rivers run free
I drink to the death of her manhood Those men who would rather have died Than to live in the cold chains of bondage To bring back their rights, once denied
Oh, where are you now when we need you? What burns where the flame used to be? Are you gone like the snows of last winter? And will only her rivers run free?
How sweet is our life, but we're crying How mellow the wine, but it's dry How fragrant the rose, but it's dying How gentle the breeze, but it sighs
What gold is in youth when it's aging? What joy is in eyes that can't see? When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers And still only her rivers run free