not far back to the caves and the trees And soon it will be time to go Freedom? I don't hear any more songs of freedom. 121st street and rising the
Fordítás: New Model Army. Szabadság.
not my home, and neither's where I'm bound; Just following after this aimless desire, worthless desire So tonight beneath the bridge where the fires burn, God, take the freedom
, what a farce, what a farce There's crippled men back home in England Doesn't it warm your hearts They think they fought for peace and freedom Poor
