Got on a plane in Frisco and got off in Vietman. I walked in to a
diff'rent world, a past forever gone.
I could have gone to Canada or I could have stayed in school,
but I was brought up diff'rently. I couldn't break the rules.
Thirteen months and fifteen days, the last ones were the worst.
One minute I'd kneel down and pray and the next I'd stand and curse.
No place to run to where I did not feel that war. When I got home,
I stayed alone and checked behind each door. 'Cause I'm still in
Saigon, still in Saigon. I am still in Saigon, in my mind.
The ground at home was covered with snow and I was covered
with sweat. My younger brother calls my a killer and my daddy
calls me a vet.
Ev'rybody says I'm someone else, that I'm sick and there's no cure.
Damned if I know who I am. There was only one place I was sure,
when I was still in Saigon, still in Saigon. I am still in Saigon, in
my mind.
Ev'ry summer when it rains I smell the jungle, I hear the planes.
Can't tell no one, I feel ashamed, afraid someday I'll go insane.
That's been ten long years ago and time has gone on by. But now
and then I catch myself, eyes searching through the sky.
All the sounds of long ago will be forever in my head. Mingled
with the wounded's cries and the silence of the dead. 'Cause I'm
still in Saigon, still in Saigon. I am still in Saigon, in my mind.
Yes, I'm still in Saigon in my mind.
Still in Saigon.
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