Were apples still grow in november where blossoms still bloom from each tree where leaves are still green in november its then that our land will be free i wander her hills and her valleys and still through my sorrows i see a land that has never known freedom and only her rivers run free i drink to the death of her manhood those men who rather have died than to live in the cold chains of bondage to bring back there rights were denied oh were are u now when we need u what burns were the flame used to be are u gone like the snow of last winter and will only our rivers run free how sweet is the life but we're crying how mellow the wine but its dry how fragrent the rose but its dying how gentle the breeze but it sighs what good is in youth when its aging what joy is in eyes that cant see when theres sorrow in sunshine and flowers and still only our rivers run free