From Dacca

Once composed in a letter, rice paper from '58
 thoughtful strokes of the India ink
 made by a makeshift quill from the village farm
 It's hardly legible now, it was hardly legible then
 It was hardly the sentiment of a man of a man of a
 man of a man among men
 Third week of November, a few steps off the plane
 some notice nature, some read the paper
 he notes the wall to wall rug
 It was hardly believable then,
 and it's hardly believable now
 The man who's vocation- pitch God to a nation
 who might otherwise choose a cow
 Round the globe, there's a robe
 and a boy named James gets his cot
 while he's gone from Dacca
 But it's home, and he's known
 that it's nice to stay,
 but he can't be away from Dacca
 Open toe in December, stateside fashion faux
 but overseas in his village remember
 that the temperature's rarely this low
 He holds the tv remote like a chimpanzee with a gun
 He marvels at the pace of the western ways
 at the VCR at the microwave
 Chorus
 Recall better days as a youth
 broke his arm in a fight over nothing
 Move ahead when friend of the cloth
 got a spear in the side over nothing
 He was a mission man, therefore the Son of Man
 this happens everyday, wish he ran away
 Celebrating a nephew's vows
 on his once every 7 year trips
 at the reception there's an open bar
 and he takes his fair share of trips
 He shares a room with the in-laws &
 settles on the floor with a mug
 He falls asleep on the tv remote
 & becomes the wall to wall rug
 Once composed in a letter, inkjet in '98
 he's flyin back for a three month break
 & admits that he just can't wait
 He loves his world by the Ganges
 he loves it by the Bengal Bay
 But he's not torn about leaving
 & he's not bothered to stay
 (it's been a good life's work)
 Chorus