He came from the mountains to our little town And he never spoke a word. But he played every day in a lovely way Little tunes I had never heard. When he played his flute, His eyes seemed to be like mirrors of times gone by. I don´t know, if 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, faraway, they are praying: \"Indio boy, come home when you are a man!\" He´s an Indio boy, and he longs for the girl who is waiting. Indio boy, come home as soon as you 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 you come to my house where it´s nice and warm?\" He said,\"Please, let me be, for I am not free And I don´t wanna break your heart, I don´t wanna break your heart.\"
He´s an Indio boy And his folks, faraway, they are praying: \"Indio boy, come home when you are a man!\" He´s an Indio boy, and he longs for the girl who is waiting. Indio boy, come home as soon as you can!
When early one morning I came to the place Where he used to play his flute, He was gone, but a song that will never die Seemed to linger on in the sky.
He´s an Indio boy And his folks, faraway, they are praying: \"Indio boy, come home when you are a man!\" He´s an Indio boy, and he longs for the girl who is waiting. Indio boy, come home as soon as you can!