The place I call home has vanished; never again will I see it.
IÕve seen too many bloodshed, heard too many cries for help, and dropped too many tears for all my Hmong people.
Each wrinkle on my body represents the years; my people have been struggling.
I cry for help, I cry for freedom, I cry for my people.
The blood that was shed cannot compared to these tear drops.
I am broken; heartbroken and spiritually broken
My body is weak, IÕm old, and I need to lie down.
Oh, how it feels to be the last one.
Oh mother, oh father, oh all my sons and daughters,
Please take me away, away from all this pain.
Maybe the next life; my family, we shall unite.
Tonight I sleep, I shall wake up and all this were a dream.
Yesterday I cried, today I am crying, tomorrow I will cry.
Where will I ever find home?
All day the jungles of Laos cry, and all the gunshots roar,
But no one hears its silent tears
Maybe they are deaf from all the bombs that were dropped,
Maybe from their own ignorance,
Maybe from all the crying at once,
Yesterday we were being hunted, today weÕre killed, and tomorrow I shall find a home.