silent cry. ( Clear and Present Danger )
written by : praCh
instrumental by: praCh, R. Delancey
produced by : praCh
inspired by : the people of srok Khmer.
DALAMA..." Memoirs of the Invisible War "
some say its a begger state,
they been populated by wild beast.
they were force into war,
tample by foreigner for century.
and currently, currency is,
one dollar equal four thousand reil,
a quarter for every thousand.
fouty reil, that just a penny,
that for those who counting...
1/3 of the 12 million,
surive on less then a dollar a day.
to give you an idea,
teachers make 30 dollars monthly wage.
so you see we,
heavenly depend on foreigner aids.
wait...if your wondering,
how much garment industry pays,
sweating hot in sweat shop, not enuff i say.
money into wrong pocket. no paper trail.
circulation of corruption,
that's when justice fails.
at the city dump site, they call it the green mountain.
family of scavengers, by the hundreds and thousands.
my heart pounding, suffocating toxic air,
I'll never forget. Its hazardous to my health,
I didn't care, I was more hurt,
by what i bare witness. every dumpers that comes,
the kids would jump up,
in excitement, running after it,
as if, it was an ice cream truck.
media and entertainment, there the bootlegg'n thing.
so I question my self, am I a victim ? or the bootlegg'n KING.
movies in theater, already on T.V.
your studio recording, already on the streets.
so -call pop stars, recycle'n people song.
kids think their idols. that just wrong!
while the real living treasure,
are hidden away at Tolaye Bassac.
family cramped up, into single bedroom shack.
village of the slums, I was bummed, watching it decay.
with the same broken vision, I watch the children play.
some get run over an killed, they peal their wheel, and run away,.
black cars with tinted windshield, identity seal, no license plate.
thieves and gangsters, mob, soldiers, policemen.
judge, jury, city official, is all in the systems.
huge towing casino, over shadows Buddhist institution.
illusion of freedom, force into prostitution.
Heroin and cocain, drug problems has worsen.
aid and h.i.v. has reach, and epidemic proportion.
kidnapping sales to orphan homes, then resale for adoptions.
dead ends at every corner,
we're running out of coffins, we're running out of options.
its my turn to talk, so shut up and listen.
its not my fault, i was force into this position. i
n the city of ghost, there still tomb raiders.
their robbing the killing fields, pissing on our grave yards.
so how am i suppose to feel, o -please Buddha, God.
help save us all, threw these times are hard !
shortage of hospital, cost many lives.
predator on the prowl, in lost paradise.
jewels of the jungles, animals of the wild.
Pedophiles praying, on innocent little child.
in bars and club, brothels and whore house.
there no more love, that what war about.
you should watch your mouth ! watch what you say,
we're still at WAR, make no mistake !
since there no tax, they do what ever it takes,
to make their money. their ways are venomous,
shady business and bravery.
how can you enforce the law, if you don't obey by it.
they said their not for sale, but still I buy it.
black list in blood it writes,
names of those who they dislike,
shots are fired from motor bikes,
murder for hire in broad day light.
millions of land mines, still Undetonated.
children who finds it, think its something to play with,
you know the out come, here what me to say it ?
Kaahaaa----Boooom ! that just the way it is !
killing in the fields, still they feel no pitty.
because it voiceless in the village, and it silence in the city.
powerless, held hostage, by its own country.
the beauty and arts, is what made us popular.
so it breaks my heart, to see them rape our Apsira.
ancient sanscrit curving, is tag up by graffiti,
trash and plastic, in our Watts, waters, trees.
land and properties being sold, country decrease in size.
foreign influence or foreign invasion ?
I'll let you decide.
but still when I,
cross path with Buddha monks,
I respectably bow, praying to them, saying;
we need help...NOW !
