We've watched them leaving, seen their ragged flight

Children of the jungle, mothers of the night

A boy of ten by the roadside lies

Hears his future in whispers and cries

And clutching a tiny Buddha charm

A baby dies in his mother's arms



Is there only sorrow in Cambodia?

Is there no tomorrow in Cambodia?



Leaving the graves of your ancestors after a thousand years

Leaving a few belongings after a thousand tears

How come you never left before through bombing, famine and flood?

Are the rivers useless now spilling over with blood?



Is there only sorrow in Cambodia?

Is there no tomorrow in Cambodia?



I hear there are very few children from ages one to five

It takes more than jungle leaves to keep the young ones alive

I hear some of the rice got through the outside's trying to send to you

There you sit in the ruins of war, the doctors are waiting at your door



And we will try and feed you, try and go to you

People of Kampuchea, Cambodia



A little way in from the border in the crowded camps

I've seen mothers giving birth, seen beautiful orphans dance

An old man turns and covers his eyes, he was never supposed to cry

With sons and daughters and home and wife

Taken from him in his autumn life



Should we try and feed you, say hello to you

Old man of Kampuchea, Kampuchea, Cambodia



Call another conference, write another song

Deliver another ton of rice and hope it gets where it belongs

And rival teams of bandits are really the only choice

Even if the people had their bellies filled, even if the people had a voice



And meanwhile, lovers are caught in the crossfire

Children are caught in the barbed wire

Military sinks in the mire

L