Joan Baez: Cambodia

We've watched them leaving, seen their ragged flightChildren of the jungle, mothers of the nightA boy of ten by the roadside liesHears his future in whispers and criesAnd clutching a tiny Buddha charmA baby dies in his mother's armsIs there only sorrow in Cambodia?Is there no tomorrow in Cambodia?Leaving the graves of your ancestors after a thousand yearsLeaving a few belongings after a thousand tearsHow 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 fiveIt takes more than jungle leaves to keep the young ones aliveI hear some of the rice got through the outside's trying to send to youThere you sit in the ruins of war, the doctors are waiting at your doorAnd we will try and feed you, try and go to youPeople of Kampuchea, CambodiaA little way in from the border in the crowded campsI've seen mothers giving birth, seen beautiful orphans danceAn old man turns and covers his eyes, he was never supposed to cryWith sons and daughters and home and wifeTaken from him in his autumn lifeShould we try and feed you, say hello to youOld man of Kampuchea, Kampuchea, CambodiaCall another conference, write another songDeliver another ton of rice and hope it gets where it belongsAnd rival teams of bandits are really the only choiceEven if the people had their bellies filled, even if the people had a voiceAnd meanwhile, lovers are caught in the crossfireChildren are caught in the barbed wireMilitary sinks in the mireLet me show it to youIs there only sorrow, only sorrow in Cambodia?Is there no tomorrow, no tomorrow in Cambodia?Still we'll try and feed you, try and show to youPeople of Kampuchea, Kampuchea, Cambodia