| I left my heart to the sappers round Khe Sanh
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| And my soul was sold with my cigarettes
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| To the blackmarket man
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| I’ve had the Vietnam cold turkey
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| From the ocean to the Silver City
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| And it’s only other vets could understand
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| About the long forgotten dockside guarantees
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| How there were no V-Day heroes in 1973
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| How we sailed into Sydney Harbour
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| Saw an old friend but couldn’t kiss her
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| She was lined, and I was home to the lucky land
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| And she was like so many more from that time on
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| Their lives were all so empty
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| Till they found their chosen one
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| And their legs were often open
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| But their minds were always closed
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| And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains
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| And the legal pads were yellow
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| Hours long, pay-packets lean
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| And the telex writers clattered
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| Where the gunships once had been
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| But the car parks made me jumpy
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| And I never stopped the dreams
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| Or the growing need for speed and Novocain
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| So I worked across the country end to end
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| Tried to find a place to settle down
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| Where my mixed up life could mend
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| Held a job on an oil-rig
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| Flying choppers when I could
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| But the nightlife nearly drove me round the bend
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| And I’ve travelled round the world from year to year
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| And each one found me aimless
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| One more year the worse for wear
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| And I’ve been back to South East Asia
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| But the answer sure ain’t there
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| But I’m drifting north, to check things out again
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| You know the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
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| Only seven flying hours, and I’ll be landing in Hong Kong
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| There ain’t nothing like the kisses
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| From a jaded Chinese princess
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| I’m gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long
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| Well the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
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| Yeah the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
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| And it’s really got me worried
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| I’m goin' nowhere and I’m in a hurry
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| And the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone |