When I return from New York,
Bring me a handful of soil,
Let it dirty my glossy suit,
Let its smell fill my thirsty nose.
When I return from New York,
Make me a bowl of soup,
Where parsley blends with fish sauce,
Where the country taste defrosts my tongue.
When I return from New York,
Take me back to my cozy room,
Well as the American heaters work,
None parallel the duck-feather blanket with a ginger scent.
When I return from New York,
Take me on a bicycle ride,
To admire the fishmongers' beauty,
Far better than the long-legged girls and the tuxedoed lads.
When I return from New York,
Hold me in your secure arms,
Tell me never to leave,
Tell me the hamster wheel won't go on.
Bring me a handful of soil,
Let it dirty my glossy suit,
Let its smell fill my thirsty nose.
When I return from New York,
Make me a bowl of soup,
Where parsley blends with fish sauce,
Where the country taste defrosts my tongue.
When I return from New York,
Take me back to my cozy room,
Well as the American heaters work,
None parallel the duck-feather blanket with a ginger scent.
When I return from New York,
Take me on a bicycle ride,
To admire the fishmongers' beauty,
Far better than the long-legged girls and the tuxedoed lads.
When I return from New York,
Hold me in your secure arms,
Tell me never to leave,
Tell me the hamster wheel won't go on.