We cry tears of fear into the dark, humid night
Stumbling over listless bodies,
Our eyes grow with terror and fright.
The pounding of our heart,
With our life, we do not want to have to part.
We cry tears of pain
As we stood in utter silence
And watch those we love die in vain
To leave their bodies and memory to rot on the ground
While we have to get out of our town.
We journey through darkness-
Riding the wind and rain on the way.
We can't see,
But we must not go astray.
Where are we going?
Each of us ask the other not knowing.
We are confused.
We almost think we can't go on.
Step after step
We take with dread
Growing more fearful of what might lay ahead.
The pain is real
In our heart
In our minds.
Each of us has a story to tell,
‘Cause we've been there, the memories dwells.
The loud crash of bombs
keeps us from our sleep.
And as it hits the ground
another flourishes in the air.
No one shall speak,
Too afraid to make a sound.
Then all at once they came,
Like frightened little animals,
we scurried and screamed.
But where do we go from here?
We run
Not a shelter near.
Airplanes are flying fiercely,
high and low.
Woman, child, and families
clung to each other dearly.
While their fathers, sons, and husbands-
young, old, and in between
who have joined the forces,
and never coming back.
We run.
Miles long
We can see all the men
who have died.
Most of them
their eyes still open wide.
When will it end?
Will we all die in vain?
When will we feel safe and free?
Or will we ever be?
To this day, the war is still a mystery.
And we are not yet free.
We fought but we never win
We fought but we never gain.
We awaken only to find,
much sorrow and pain
and remembering in our minds
the country of Laos that never was.
We keep thinking the world
will adjust to our wishes,
But it doesn't happen.
Will it ever? When?
"Trouble across the mountains"
The Meeka men told them.
"We need your help, it is vital
Your neighbors are bad,
they are your rival.
Ho Chi Minh's trail in your backyard
So we will protect you."
Come one, come all,
to help General Vang Pao
He will lead, we will support.
Together we can't lose.
The Meekas are your friends
With ancient guns and crossbows,
Doing as the CIA directed.
Saving many Meekas
from death and torture.
Friend sacrificing all for Friend.
Their boys die
so Meeka boys can live.
Back home, the TV claims
"There are no Meekas in Laos"
People in the streets
Demand an end
to the quandary, to the death.
Secrets kept, promises made.
But the losses to the hill people
never to be known.
Come one, come all,
Come help General Vang Pao
He will lead, we will support.
You can't lose.
The Meekas are your friends.
Clashes with the V.C.
Fierce and bloody,
A whole generation lost.
M16 carrying boys of 10.
Their mothers never to see again.
Things go wrong, not as planned.
One day CIA gone, were did they go?
A disturbing quiet before the storm.
An awful scream in the night.
A swarm of fury
rushing through villages.
Leaving only ashes and bodies.
Come one, come all,
to help General Vang Pao
He will lead, we will support.
You won't lose.
The Meekas will always be your friends.
Enemies must all die.
The Meekas' friends will be no more.
Yellow Rain will wash
the hill people from memory.
No room for them
in the New Order.
Running from the horror
Through the jungle to the Mekong
If we can only make it.
Safety on the other side.
Ships in the sky
Patrol the swift waters
Destroying all they see.
Come one, come all,
Better help Vang Pao
He will lead, we will always support.
Win or lose,
Meekas never forget their friends.
Safety from torture
but not from sickness
Camps across the river
Crowding by the day
Nowhere else to go.
Where are the Meekas
Who promised protection?
Secret wars, cover ups and deception.
Hill people are evidence of lies,
reminders of misdeeds.
Valiant and loyal friends forgotten.
Exploited and disposable.
A tragic repetition in Meeka History.
The Hmong never knew the Indians' story.
Come one, come all?
Who's General Vang Pao?
Don't know him, we did not support.
All is lost, Meekas want to forget.
Seems you can't save your face
AND your friends
A people nearly exterminated
Slaughtered like animals
Sent running from their homes.
Dead children cling
to their lifeless mothers
The hillside flowing with tears and blood.
Many Meekas weep for their own.
But who will cry for them?