Sweet dreams my little amigo
 Barefoot and homeless in Rio De Janiero
 Sleepin' on the step of a church
 Whose doors are locked
 Livin' in a cardboard box
 Inside at the shrine
 The Priest sips fine wine
 Dines on fine food and looks for a sing
 No mother no father
 No shoes nor a bed
 No place to relax and rest his weary head
 Where his next meal [bad word] from
 Nobody knows
 But everyone can see the church is covered in gold

 Wish I had a home
 With ten million rooms
 I'd open up the doors
 And let the street children through
 Wish that I could scoop
 All of those children in my arms
 And give the love they need
 And to protect them all from harm

 Wish I had a home
 With ten million rooms
 I'd open up the doors
 And let the street children through
 Wish that I could scoop
 All of those children in my arms
 And give the love they need
 And to protect them all from harm

 Wish I had a home
 With ten million rooms
 I'd open up the doors
 And let the street children through
 Wish that I could scoop
 All of those children in my arms
 And give the love they need
 And to protect them all from harm