Tropic Moon

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 And the 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 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 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 Till it shines through bullet holes 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 Till it shines through bullet holes --- Tropic Moon - Bruce Cockburn