I went to see a legend just the other night
At the Yankee Stadium, underneath the lights.
And I heard an old man speaking after years and years in jail.
His name was Mandela and he came to tell the tale.
Well, the crowd they cheered him loudly, a but then the silence fell
As he spoke about his hard years in a South African cell.
And although he was free, well, his heart was still in pain,
For his country and his people were still a part of the chain.
He said he hoped that he would join us and we’d walk down freedom’s path,
And although these would be hard years, oh, but they would be the last.
And to join hands together so that we might be as one,
And to bring ourselves to the cause so our struggle might be won.
I went home to bed that evening, I fell asleep, and I had a dream.
Well, I dreamt that I was standing there in an Irish field of green.
And all around were headstones of the martyrs of the past.
There I stood in solemn silence, and they spoke to me at last.
“Kevin Barry is my name, I was tortured in a cell.
And they wanted the names of my comrades, oh, but this I would not tell.”
“And I am Roger Casement. I was hanged in London town
For bringing German rifles to the lonely Banna Strand.”
“James Connolly is my name. The working people are my life.
And then they shot me down in Kilmainham Gaol; that’s right.”
“And I am Padraic Pearse. I was shot down by the foe.
For I read the proclamation on the steps of the GPO.”
Well, the last voice that I heard says, "My name is Bobby Sands,
And it’s good to hear Mandela’s voice is ringin’ through our land.
“I want to hear them in Belfast, in Derry and Tyrone.
It’s maybe then those English soldiers will know it’s time to go home.”
I awoke then from my dream. I remembered them all.
And who would believe that they could knock down the Berlin Wall?
And I said, "O Mandela, can this really be?
Maybe now we will see Ireland reunited and free.
Maybe now we will see Ireland reunited and free.