Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for
the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the
run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes
arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my father's eyes.
My
father's eyes.
When I look in my father's eyes.
My father's
eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient
lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to
overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach
him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That's when I need
them,
That's when I need my father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
That's
when I need my father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
Then the jagged
edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
I'm like a bridge that
was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul
slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit,
I've realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my father's
eyes.
My father's eyes.
I looked into my father's eyes.
My father's
eyes.
My father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
I looked into my
father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
{Toerag is a British slang term
for a worthless person, by analogy with the
strips of cloth that vagrants
wear in place of socks.}