were apples still grow in november

where blossoms still bloom from each tree

where leaves are still green in november

its then that our land will be free

i wander her hills and her valleys

and still through my sorrows 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 rather have died

than to live in the cold chains of bondage

to bring back there rights were denied

oh were are u now when we need u

what burns were the flame used to be

are u gone like the snow of last winter

and will only our rivers run free



how sweet is the life but we're crying

how mellow the wine but its dry

how fragrent the rose but its dying

how gentle the breeze but it sighs

what good is in youth when its aging

what joy is in eyes that cant see

when theres sorrow in sunshine and flowers

and still only our rivers run free