Heart of Gold
We were young, we were strong,
back in '69;
the world, it was yours,
as much as it was mine;
We were free and we could see
through the empty lies
of those who had
no truth in their eyes;
and it went, our freedom went away,
before I could even say
good-bye to you all, and tell you
that I love your heart of gold . . .
Now we work - we are told -
for a pot of gold,
that is waiting where the rainbow's end
will be sold;
(but) I still long - for so long -
for your heart of gold
and remember the disdain
of those who were old;
and I cry that we didn't say good-bye,
but our freedom was no lie;
the lie was to try believing
that compromise would work . . .
Now we're here, in this year
of '89;
the world is not your's
and neither is it mine;
we're not free,
as you can see;
they were empty lies
of those that never had truth in their eyes;
we never said good-bye, as in our hearts we knew
that we would meet again
without searching truth, but believing
in what is promised by Optionality.
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