Only Her Rivers Run Free

When apples still grow in November, when blosoms still bloom on each tree

when leaves are still green in December, its then that our land will be free

I wonder her hills and her valleys and still through my sorrow I see

a land that has never know freedom and only her rivers run free

I'll drink to the death of her manhood, those men who would rather have died

than to life in the cold chains of bondage, to bring back their rights were denied

were are you now when we need you what burns were the flame used to be

are you gone like the snows of last winter and only her rivers run free

how sweet is life but we're crying how mellow the wine but we're dry

how fraquant the rose but its dying how gentle the wind but is sighs

what good is in youth when is ageing what joy is in eyes that can't see

when there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers and still only her rivers run free