Dancing On A Moving Truck
We were four days in Haiti. We’d been driving every day.
We were all out of stories. We were tired of talking anyway,
Tired of crazy drivers, dodging potholes in the dirt
In a race without a finish line where somone’s always getting hurt.
Almost at the hotel when by chance I look up
And see three crazy Haitians, dancing on a moving truck.
They were up there on the canvas with boombox and a prayer
Going sixty miles an hour while the wind whipped through their hair.
I couln’t hear the music for the engines and the speed,
But I could see it in their bodies. And I had to tap my feet.
They were laughing at the traffic and cranking it up.
Never mind about the danger when you’re dancing on a moving truck.
Bridge:
We saw famine and funerals, people dying way too soon
In a paradise eroded like the surface of the moon,
but in between the tragedies, if you knew where to look,
Was the joy of human dignity, dancing on a moving truck.
I’ve seen a little courage, and I’ve felt a lot of fear.
This world is full of danger, full of tragedy and tears.
But sometimes there is music, though it’s safer to resist,
I think about those Haitians and the joy they might have missed.
I know it might be risky or it might cost me a buck,
But I want to join the living, and they’re dancing on a moving truck.
Written by Jim Weber
(c) Copyright 1991 Centergy Music Group (ASCAP). All Rights Reserved.