Free Man



Oh give me a gun, good sir, and I’ll go.

To war I will go with the gun in my hand.

To war will I go while the tears freely flow

Of the nation who’s child I once have been.

Oh give me a reason to slaughter young children

And the knife made in China will bleed with their blood.

Give me the boots of the coarse blackened leather

And their face I’ll crush by the light of the day.

The law, oh please give me, to prove my ambitions

To let me win ticket to ride out of hell.

Oh soften their voices that cry for the bleeding!

They stir in my heart a sorrowful song.

Belittle their vision, let truth slide away.

Embrace the devotion my youth gives today!

Oh give me a say and the gun in my hand

Will lift up the dust of the ancient’s lost land.

And give me a way to become a freeman.

For you said that the freedom is not always there.