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I feel the wind blowing through my doorway, |
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It's telling me that the summer's gone, |
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And the winter waits in shadow, waiting with the storm; |
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I am old and my bones are weary, |
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And my son he is all I have, |
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But he has gone to fight for freedom, leaving with my heart; |
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All my life I have loved this land, worked it with my hands, |
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But can this freedom send the rain when seed is in the ground, |
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Can this freedom heal the pain and bring my boy back to me again? |
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Oh oh oh.... |
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I watched them sail from the rocks below me, |
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'Twas like the sea in its endless rage, |
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Many fall on the road to freedom, dying on the stones; |
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All my life I have loved this land, worked it with my hands, |
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But can your freedom send the rain when seed is in the ground, |
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Can your freedom heal the pain and bring my boy back to me again? |
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Oh oh oh.... |
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Late last night, as the world was sleeping, I dreamed my boy, |
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He was calling out, 'cos he was lost in some dark forest, and |
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Snow was falling down, falling on the ground......ooh..... |
