Look at them working in the hot sun

the pilloried saints and the fallen ones

working and waiting for the night to come

and waiting for a miracle



Somewhere out there is a place that's cool

where peace and balance are the rule

working toward a future like some kind of mystic jewel

and waiting for a miracle



You rub your palm

on the grimy pane

in the hope that you can see

You stand up proud

you pretend you're strong

in the hope that you can be

like the ones who've cried

like the ones who've died

trying to set the angel in us free

while they're waiting for a miracle



Struggle for a dollar, scuffle for a dime

step out from the past and try to hold the line

so how come history takes such a long, long time

When you're waiting for a miracle



You rub your palm

on the grimy pane...



(Managua, January 86)