Letra de A Perfect Indian - Sinead O'connor

A perfect indian is he
Remembering him life is sweet
Like a weeping willow
His face was on my pillow
Comes to me still in my dreams
And there i saw a young baby
A beatiful daughter was she
A face from a painting
Red cheeks and teeth aching
Her eyes like a wild irish sea
On a table in her yellow dress
For a fotograph feigned happiness
Why in my life is that the only time
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That any of you will smile at me
I'm sailing on this terrible ocean
I've come for my self to retrive
Too long have i been feeling like Lir's children
And there is only one way to be free
He's shy and speaks quietly
He's gentle and seems to me
Like the elf-arrow
His face worn and narrowed
Is he a daydreamer like me