In the month of May,
in the glory of the day,
came the descendants of a hundred flowers.
And their fight it did begin
with the aging mandarin,
and they fought with an extraordinary power.
Everyone was smiling,
their hearts were one,
in Tiananmen Square.
But it seems that the spring,
this year in Beijing,
came just before
the fall.
There was no summer at all in Tiananmen Square.
Shine on,
shine on.
There's peace in the emerald fields,
there's mist upon the lakes,
but something is afoot in the people's heart.
The spirit of Qiuping
is alive in young Chiling,
and the emperor has his back against the wall.
Black sun rising over Tiananmen Square,
over Tiananmen Square.
And it
seems that the spring,
this year in Beijing,
came just before
the fall.
There was no summer at all
in Tiananmen Square.
Shine on,
shine on.
In the month of June,
in the darkness of the moon,
went the descendants of a hundred flowers.
And time may never tell
how many of them fell,
like the petals of a rose in some satanic
shower.
Everyone was weeping in all of China
and Tiananmen Square.
Before the fall,
there was no summer at all
in Tiananmen Square.
And
even the moon on the fourth day of
June did her face and did not see.
Black sun rising over Tiananmen Square.
And when wailing,
you remember him.
All alone,
he stood before the tanks.
A shadow of forgotten ancestors in Tiananmen Square.
And my blue-eyed son,
who had no one you could call a hero of your age.
You have the rainbow
warriors
of Tiananmen Square singing,
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.
China shall be free.