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