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.}