The scraps lay scattered on the floor 70 days had been ignored The people wake as a martyr goes to sleep His figure frail of 7 stone A fire fights beneath his bones "I will not die after you bury me!"
If my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free! If my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free!
A poet and a scholar of his day Commandant of the Cork Brigade His friends and foes revered him just the same The crown then feared his influence His threatening wit and intellect So they locked him up in a Brixton prison cage
But no tank or gun, or brick or bullet or stone Could turn a rebel mind on their own
Should my death do more than my release Then let me die in chains If it brings the enemy to his knees It's not who can inflict the most But who can most endure That in 100 years will see their children free
1920 - Hallow's Eve, 100,000 filled the streets A procession flowed beside the river lee A nation lost her rebel son But the bells of freedom would be rung The truce was signed in 1921
And the cheers of the world Would echo from afar Never underestimate a rebel heart
The scraps lay scattered on the floor 70 days had been ignored The people wake as a martyr goes to sleep His figure frail of 7 stone A fire fights beneath his bones "I will not die after you bury me!"
If my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free! If my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free! And if my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free! If my will is the wind, then I will die willing and free!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
