When apples still grow in November
When blossoms still bloom on each tree
When leaves are still green in December
Itґs then that our land will be free
Iґve wandered her hills and valleys
And 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 whoґd rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage
To bring back their rights were denied
But where are you now that we need you?
What burns where the flame used to be?
Are you gone like the snow of last winter?
And still only our rivers run free
How sweet is life, but weґre dying
How mellow the wine, but weґre dry
How fragrant the rose, but itґs dying
How gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when itґs aging?
What joys are in eyes that canґt see?
When thereґs sorrow in sunshine and flowers
And still only our rivers run free