Treasure Island

Albert Martin


Fire In The Air


These days there's
Fire in the air
We do breath it
And into our lungs it breaks through
We're never gonna see a sky of blue
We ought to go, leave our country
Forsake the ones we love
In our dear county
And start the marching
our little leader goes ahead
We'll keep on walking
As our baby keeps slept

And this kind of love
That fills our hearts with joy
All seems to come from the hand
of that little and pale boy
I'm gonna climb up the mountain
I'm gonna let my voice go down the slope
So this little child spoke
And his words were not in vain
Not were induced by pain
Nothing is gonna keep us from walking
Maybe except the constant hail
Or the constant falling driving rain

Submitted: Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Edited: Saturday, January 18, 2014

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