A gypsy sings, of birds with broken wings And painted wheels that never roll Who hears the sighs? Who stole this paradise? Who took the fire from his soul? And where are the roads to freedom? Where is the life his father knew? Where is the love, where is the joy And tell me, where are the roads to freedom? Now truthful life, who hears the soldier cry? He was a hero of the war But no one comes near, he sheds a lonely tear And wonders what it all was for And where are the roads to freedom? Where is the life his father knew? Where is the love, where is the joy And tell me, where are the roads to freedom? And where are the roads to freedom? Where is the life his father knew? Where is the love, where is the joy And tell me, where are the roads to freedom?