From the center of the forest we watched the strangers come There must have been ten thousand or more Their armor glinting coldly in the early moring sun As they marched across the valley floor They slaughtered us like cattle they dragged us off in chains They burned our village to the ground Now we are a hunted people pursued by castle and church steeple Always driven underground But the rain still falls on the green hills of England And the sun beats down on our California home And the wind blows free across all your borders Why must we be always on the run? Through all these years of history through all these bloody centuries We dared not even dream of being free We worked in farms and factories we did our best to live in peace But they'd never let us be Now our tribe grows strong again we hold our heads up high again We know each other when we meet From the mountain to the sea and all the land that lies between On country fields and city streets And the rain...
