The Rain in Rangoon

[wtongue@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]

This is the most recent of the Burma Songs. It made its first public 
appearence at the FBC conference in Washington and will soon be available 
from the BurmaSong site as a recording.

It is posted now because the latest storm has touched us all.


The Rain in Rangoon

Wrightson Tongue


Even on the soldier 
in the doorway with his hat across his eyes
 - it's no disguise; he feel the pain - 
falls the rain in Rangoon.
The vendor in the park across the way
calls it a day
no one is left to play
the game he needs to win;
he packs it in.
Even on the poet
or the prince who still is waiting for a crown
 - the sighing sound is all around - 
falls the rain in Rangoon.

Even on the general
in the temple where the demons call his name
 - there is no shame he can exchange - 
falls the rain in rangoon.
The rebel in the jungle hears the rumor
of it falling through the trees,
the sad insistence of it's tune;
the night comes soon.
Even on the refugee
who's waiting in some camp to go back home
so things she's known
can be reclaimed
from the rain in Rangoon....

Even on the junky
shooting Burma up his arm
 _ he buys the farm 
never knowing who's to blame - 
falls the rain in Rangoon.
The wandering expatriot, the prostitute who's
   dying on the job,
they know who robbed them of their dreams...
but they cannot scream.
Even on a world
where no one seems to hear 
the thunder on the wind
 - the signs begin to show the strain 
of the rain in Rangoon.