| 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… |