When apples still grow in November, when blossoms still grow from each tree
When leaves are still green in December, it's then that our land will be free
I wander her hill and her 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 depth of her manhood, to those men who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage, to bring back their rights where denied
Oh where are we now when we need you, what burns where the flame used to be
Are you gone like the snows of last winter, and will only her rivers run free
How sweet is life but we're crying, how mellow the wine but we're dry
How fragrant the rose but it's dying, how gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when it's aging, what joy is in eyes that can't see
When there's sorrow and sunshine and flowers and still only our rivers run free
When leaves are still green in December, it's then that our land will be free
I wander her hill and her 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 depth of her manhood, to those men who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage, to bring back their rights where denied
Oh where are we now when we need you, what burns where the flame used to be
Are you gone like the snows of last winter, and will only her rivers run free
How sweet is life but we're crying, how mellow the wine but we're dry
How fragrant the rose but it's dying, how gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when it's aging, what joy is in eyes that can't see
When there's sorrow and sunshine and flowers and still only our rivers run free