He came from the mountains to our little town
And he never spoke a word.
But he played every day in a lovely wayLittle tunes I had never heard.
When he played his fluteHis eyes seemed to be like mirrors of times gone by.
I don't know if I saw what I should not seeBut I looked right into his heart.
I looked right into his heart.I found out one evening only by chanceWhere he spent his lonely nights.
There he slept in the church on the marble floorAnd his flute lay by his side.
As I woke him up and saidWon't you come to my house where it's nice and warm
He said
Please let me be, for I am not freeAnd I don't wanna break your heart
.
I don't wanna break your heart
.
When early one morning I came to the placeWhere 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
far away
they are prayingIndio boy come home when you are a man.
He's an Indio Boy
and he longs for the girl who is waitinc
Indio Boy
come home as soon as you can.
He's an Indio Boy till the day he will be a man.