There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on. Empty chairs at empty tables Now my friends are dead and gone.
Here they talked of revolution. Here it was they lit the flame. Here they sang about `tomorrow' And tomorrow never came.
From the table in the corner They could see a world reborn And they rose with voices ringing I can hear them now! The very words that they had sung Became their last communion On the lonely barricade at dawn.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone. There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on.
I don't need to be anything other Than a prison guard's son I don't need to be anything other Than a specialist's son I don't have to be anyone other Than the birth of two souls in one Part of where I'm going, is knowing where I'm coming from
I don't want to be Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately All I have to do Is think of me and I have peace of mind I'm tired of looking 'round rooms Wondering what I've got to do Or who I'm supposed to be I don't want to be anything other than me