When apples still grow in September when blossoms still bloom on each tree
When leaves are still green in November it’s then that our land will be free
I wander her hills and her valleys and still through my sorrow I see
A land that has never known freedom, 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 were denied
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 will only our rivers run free
How sweet is life but we’re crying how mellow the wine that were dry
How fragrant the rose but its dying how gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is youth when its ageing what joy is in eyes that can see?
There is sorrow in sunshine and flowers and only our rivers run free.