When he first cried, his mother died. I had tried to be his guide When he was born I was too young, the father searches for the son
In Istanbul. Give him back to me In Istanbul. Give me back my brown eyed son.
Moonlight jumping through the trees, sunken eyes avoiding me. From dawn to dusk the hunt is on, the father searches for the son.
In Istanbul Give him back to me In Istanbul Give me back my brown eyed son
On secret streets in disbelief, little shadow shows the lead Prostitutes stylish and glum, in amongst them you are one Oh what have I done...
Rolling breathless off the tongue the vicious street gang slang I lean into a box of pine, identify the kid as mine...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
