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It was common for the women to send complimentary food and snacks to the troupes—via campus security guards—who would often continue singing and playing until the wee hours of the morning. A Rangoon University student at the time recalls an occasion when the serenaders began singing "Scarecrow", a Mun Awng tune about soldiers in the Burmese army that was banned by the government. Dead or alive Sacrificing my life for my country Gold and silver, silver stars on my shoulder Oh my friend, what honor and rewards I would get My heart is crying While my mouth was muzzled from telling the truth A pierce through my eyes which have seen the truth Oh my friend, I am a scarecrow in human form Though I am alive, I am no longer living. But with the government curfew in 1988, the closure of universities and the official ban on public gatherings of more than five people, the military effectively killed Burma’s serenade tradition. Musicians and singers who have chosen career survival over artistic integrity can expect invitations to perform at military fund-raising concerts, on the frontlines to entertain soldiers, or on the state-run Myanmar TV. They can also expect to be forced to wear their hair short and un-colored, restrict their dance movements to the casual and keep their earrings at home. When performing live, however, "we can do and wear whatever they want," says a currently popular Rap musician in Rangoon. But Mun Awng has preferred not to yield to government pressures and instead went into exile to sing his songs and wear his clothes without restriction and without the fear of censorship, or worse. As musicians, Mun Awng and others acted simultaneously as participants and observers in Burma’s political upheaval. Like other political movements in Southeast Asia’s history, music in Burma has been used to challenge a corrupt, exploitative, and unresponsive regime. Songs such as "Scarecrow", "War and Peace", and "History’s Bride" helped the voiceless articulate strong resistance to military rule and functioned as an alternative means of communication to the anodyne state-run press and government-sponsored music. With music, political realities are inseparable from feelings and emotions. And though the military junta continues to work tirelessly to silence its critics, it is certain that the music will play on long after the regime is silenced once and for all.