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Only Our Rivers Christy Moore
[G]When apples still gr[D]ow in Nov[G]ember
When bloss[C]oms still bl[G]oom from each t[D]ree,
When le[C]aves are still green in Dec[G]ember,
It's [D]then that our l[Bm]and will be f[Em]ree.
I w[C]ander her hills and her v[G]alleys,
And st[C]ill through my sorrow i [D]see
A la[C]nd that has never known fr[G]eedom
And o[D]nly her r[Bm]ivers run f[Em]ree.
I drink to the death of her manhood,
Those men who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage,
To bring back their rights were denied.
Oh were are you now when we need you,
What burns where the flame used to be,
Are ye gone like the snows of last winter,
And will only our rivers run free.
How sweet is life but we're crying
How mellow the wine that were 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.
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