A Perfect Indian Lyrics - Sinead Oconnor

A perfect Indian is he 

Remembering him life is sweet 

Like a weeping willow 

His face on my pillow 

Comes to me still in my dreams 

And there I saw a young baby 

A beautiful 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 photograph feigned happiness 

Why in my life is that the only time 

That any of you will smile at me 

I'm sailing on this terrible ocean 

I've come for my self to retrieve 

Too long have I been feeling like Lir's children 

And there's only one way to be free 

He's shy and he speaks quietly 

He's gentle and he seems to me 

Like the elf-arrow 

His face worn and harrowed 

Is he a daydreamer like me 

I'm sailing on this terrible ocean 

I've come for my self to retrieve 

Too long have I been feeling like Lir's children 

And there's only one way to be free