Tell me all about this name, that is difficult to say. It was given me the day I was born. Want to know about the stories of the empire of old. My eyes say more of me than what you dare to .. [+]

Tell me all about this name, that is difficult to say. It was given me the day I was born. Want to know about the stories of the empire of old. My eyes say more of me than what you dare to say. All I know of you is all the sights of war. A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar. One day I'll touch your soil. One day I'll finally know my soul. One day I'll come to you. To say hello... Vietnam. Tell me all about my colour, my hair and my little feet That have carried me every mile of the way. Want to see your house, your streets. Show me all I do not know. Wooden sampans, floating markets, light of gold. All I know of you is the sights of war. A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar. One day I'll touch your soil. One day I'll finally know my soul. One day I'll come to you. To say hello... Vietnam. And Buddha’s made of stone watch over me My dreams they lead me through the fields of rice In prayer, in the light…I see my kin I touch my tree, my roots [-]