In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
(Should) "Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
Thou soul of love and brav'ry!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!
- Johnny Appleseed
- Cool 'n' Out
- Global A Go-Go
- Bhindi Bhagee
- Gamma Ray
- Mega Bottle Ride
- Shaktar Donetsk
- Mondo Bongo
- Bummed Out City
- At The Border, Guy
- Minstrel Boy