1928 Saigon, a heavy monsoon took a grip on the Mekong there was something wrong an air of fear In a colonised land started off by some offbeat coolie gang 1968 Saigon, the sound of rotary blades, birds of prey family men led astray, there was something wrong biting their lips in the ranks nervously glancing at the tanks rolling off the gang planks can we make it pay, can we make it safe? can we make things clear on the new frontier I don't wish to worry you but an the mud and the madness the bullets riddled this place with a history of sadness the unsung heroes struck a chord deep in me I was maybe six or seven when I saw it on TV just Buddy and Charlie and you on your own some guns and a six pack and a patched up radio no sense no sanity, is it safe to go alone? no loving arms like you got back home did you do the right thing? did you do the right thing? (come on where's the fighting spirit? dry your tears) there's a man spitting poison at a girl 'bout seventeen with a gun held at her head, to blow away her dreams and I sometimes start to wonder if there's any hope at all and after two world wars, you'd have thought we'd learnt by now there are too many madmen in this world, too may trigger happy weirdos and the tears she cried streaming down her face for a million unsung heroes we're all loners in this world, always waiting for the lid to blow and if the time it takes, takes too long, then it's off to fight we go and at night I search my thoughts for any sanity left at all and after three world wars, there'll be no one left at all… we felt like pioneers in the fields of Tonking we fought for all those years in the blood and the tears we felt like pioneers on the west frontier (to be free)