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There's a grief that can't be spoken, |
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There's a pain goes on and on. |
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Empty chairs at empty tables, |
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now my friends are dead and gone. |
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Here they talked of revolution, |
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here it was they lit the flame, |
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here they sang about tomorrow and tomorrow never came. |
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From the table in the corner, |
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They could see a world reborn, |
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And they rose with voices ringing, |
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And I can hear them now; |
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The very words that they had sung |
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Became their last communion |
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On the lonely barricade, at dawn. |
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Oh my friends, my friends forgive me |
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That I live and you are gone |
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There's a grief that can't be spoken, |
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There's a pain goes on and on... |
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Phantom faces at the window, |
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Phantom shadows on the floor, |
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Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more. |
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Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me |
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what your sacrifice was for |
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Empty chairs at empty tables |
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Where my friend will sing no more. |
