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