Should I leave to go off and preach
Or might I stay here and to little ones teach
While billions die without hope so far away?
Therefore, I’m on my way to Mandalay.
This is a land overlaid in gold.
Its culture strikes one as rich and bold.
Yet many will never see God’s eternal day,
So I am on my way to Mandalay.
Winter invites warmth with snow forgot;
Spring pilfers water through massive drought.
Summer brings monsoons, bleak and gray.
Autumn-less, I’m on my way to Mandalay.
This city housed ancient kings
And ought to house the King of kings.
A Heavenly royalty I’m to portray;
Consequently, I’m on my way to Mandalay.
God looks not on the outside but on the heart.
In Burma Mandalay is that vital part.
To start in this country’s core we pray;
Lord willing, we’re on our way to Mandalay.
Business men, merchant men, and folks of all kinds
Come through to traffic their merchandise.
With promise of reaching so far as the bay,
I am now on my way to Mandalay.
This is a city filled with people
Who stop to pray at Buddha’s steeple.
Millions of people go by this way;
Hence, I am on my way to Mandalay.
Will you help reach the lost over there
By giving time to missions prayer?
One day you will see crowns the Burmese lay;
That is why you sent me to Mandalay.