He came from the mountains to our little town
And he never spoke a word
But he pleiyed every day in a lovely way
Little tunes I had never heard
When he played his nute
His eyes seemed to be like mirrors
Of times gone by
I don't know it I saw what I should not see
But I looked into his heart
I looked right into his heart

* He's an Indio Boy
And his folks far away they are praying
Indio [bad word] home when you're a man
He's an Indio Boy
And he longs for the girl who in waiting
Indio [bad word] home as soon asyou can

I found out one evening only by chance
Where he spent his lonely nights
There he slept in the church
On the marble floor
And his flute lay by his side
As I woke him up and said, won't [bad word] 
To my house where it's and warm?
He said, please let me be, for I am not free
And I don't wanna break your heart
I dont wanna break your heart

When early one morning
 [bad word] to the place
Where he used to play his flute
He was gone, but a song that will never die
Seemed to linger an the sky