By patti smith



I don't know why i feel this way today

The sky is blue the table is laid

The trees are heavy with yellow fruit

And in their shade children happily play



The pears have fallen to the ground

My child places one in my hand

The sun is warm upon my face

And i dream of a burning land



Mother of famine take this pear

Upon an arrow through the rings of time

This small fruit this golden prayer

May it pass from this hand to thine



If i were rain i'd rain on somalia

If i were grain for somalia i'd grow

If i were bread i would rise for somalia

If i were a river for somalia i'd flow



All the mothers will dream of thee

All the mothers bless thy empty hand

All the mothers will grieve for thee

All the sorrow a mother can stand



If we were rain we would rain on somalia

If we were grain for somalia we'd grow

If we were bread we would rise for somalia

If we were a river for somalia we'd flow




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