He came from the mountains to our little town And he never spoke word. But he played every day in a lovely way Little tunes I had never 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 right his heart. I looked right into his heart.
I found one evening only by chance Where he spent his lonely nights. There he slept in the church on the 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 for I am not free And I don't wanna break your heart I don't wanna break your heart”
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 on in the sky. He's an Indio boy And folks far away they are praying Indio boy come home when you are a man.
He's an Indio Boy he longs for the girl who is waiting Indio Boy come home as soon as you can..