(From the album "The Trouble With Normal")



Away from the river

Away from the smoke of the burning

Fearful survivors

Subject of government directives

One sad guitar note

Echoes of the wall of the jungle

Seen from the air they're just targets with nowhere to run to



Children of rape

Raised on malnutrition

Men in camouflage

Filled with a sense of mission

Light through the wire mesh

Plays on the president's pistol

Like the gleam of a bead of sweat in the flow of a candle



Hear the cry in the tropic night

Should be the cry of love but it's a cry of fright

Some people never see the light

Till it shines through bullet holes



The tropic moon

Bathing a beach fringed with palms

Glitters on shells

And beach tar and coke cans

And on the night-coloured boat

And on the barrels of guns

In the rage in the hearts of these men is the seed of a wind they call

Kingdom Come



Hear the cry...