We have walked all the highways
Yet where have we gone
We planted dreams along the byways
What else is there to be done
We spoke of peace, pure and simple
They seemed not to understand
We asked them to free our people
They said, "Freedom is at hand."
We asked, "Is freedom a farmer with no land to farm?
Is freedom a fisher with no river to fish?
Is freedom a worker with no place to work?"
Yet they said, "Freedom is at hand."
Guns cried out as night drew near
We hurried for home
To our children aged in fear
Whose dreams are made of stone
"Peace," we said, "is not an empty plate
Nor a man with no land.
Freedom we can no longer wait."
They said, "Freedom is at hand." (REFRAIN)
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