I went to see a legend just the other night,
At the Yankee Stadium, underneath the light,
I heard an old man speaking, after years and years in jail,
His name it was Nelson Mandela and he came to tell his tale.

The crowd they cheered him loudly, ah, but then the silence fell,
As he spoke about the hard years in a South African cell,
Although he was free, his heart was filled with pain,
For his country and his people were still apart of that shame.

He said he hoped that he would join them and walk down freedom's path,
And these roads would be the hardest, oh, but they would be the last,
And to join our hands together just so that we might be as one,
And to bring ourselves to the cause so this war could be won.

I went home to bed that evening, went to sleep and I had a dream,
I was standing in the pouring rain, in an Irish field of green,
And all around the headstones for the martyrs of the past,
I stood there in silence, and they spoke to me at last.

"Kevin Barry is my name, and I died in the cell,
They wanted the names of my comrades, oh, but this I did not tell",
"And I am Roger Casement, I was shot in London Town,
For bringing German rifles to the lonely Banna Strand."

"James Connolly is my name, the working people are my life,
When they shot me down in Kilmainham Jail with strife",
"And I am Pádraig Pearse, I was shot down by the foe,
I read the proclamation at the steps of the GPO."

And the last voice that I heard says, "My name is Bobby Sands,
And it's good to hear Mandela's words ringing through the land,
I want to hear them in Belfast, in Derry and Tyrone,
Oh, maybe then those English soldiers will know it's time to go home."

I woke up in the morning, I remember them all,
And who would believe that they'd knock down the Berlin Wall?
And "Oh" said Mandela, "Oh, could this really be?
Oh, maybe now we would see Ireland reunited and free."
"Yes, maybe now we would see Ireland reunited and free.".