In the summer of last year, in a city* far from here That stands on the shores of the fair Pacific sea I walked it's pleasant streets, no view in mind, no one to meet Content to wander where my aimless feet led me A few streets from my hotel, I passed an old stone wall where three words had been scrawled by an unknown hand When I read them I stopped dead, in disbelief I shook my head For the words on that wall read, "Free Bobby Sands" As the sun began to fall, and the day began to die Thought I heard the wild geese call, from a dark and empty sky For long minutes I stood there, in that busy thoroughfare While the past rose sharp and clear in my mind's eye I saw it all again, the passion, hate, and pain the indifference and the shame as a young man died But it was all so long ago, and who now cares or knows why Bobby Sands chose his lonely death? But to the one who wrote that sign, it seems that Bobby's light still shines The words rang from another time, but the paint was fresh As the sun began to fall, and the day began to die Thought I heard the wild geese call, from a dark and empty sky So I went down to the sea, to let it's wild song comfort me But my thoughts would not let me be, and unchecked they ran Through my future, present, and past, not for the first time nor the last I heard them ask, "Could you be the kind of man who would gladly sacrifice everything, even life and put no price on a cause, or an ideal?" No answer echoed in my heart, so I turned and I walked back through the twilight's deepening dark, to my hotel.