You were born on the first morning after that cold winter
you were raised in a cavern in your mother’s heart
and you sucked at her breast until nothing was left over
and we buried her in a field ‘neath the withering corn
and you cried every night for forty days unforgiving
the only rain that fell in that season of drought
the dry season has come, there are no tears
the dry season has come, there are no tears for us now
at first it was hard with no circus and ponies
no teevee ipods or internet p*rn
we struggled to survive and hold on to our dignity
’til our faith dried up along with our dreams
we’ve used up the oil, and our waters and forests
and now all these fields of plenty are gone
the dry season has come, there are no tears
the dry season has come, there are no tears for us now
imagine there’s no humans it’s easy if you try to,
our mothers never dreamt of these things we have done
we’ve fouled up the oceans that fed all the billions
we’ve drained all the blood that nourishes the ground
the dry season has come and no rain has fallen and
no rain may fall for a thousand more years
the dry season has come, there are no tears
the dry season has come, there are no tears for us now
and so my child i leave this all to you
©2007, Duane Poncy