“A Perfect Indian”

Composed by Sinéad O'Connor

1 version

Lyrics

	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.

Produced by Sinéad O'Connor , John Reynolds , and Phil Coulter

(Source: Universal Mother)

Musicians

(Source: Universal Mother)

Sinéad O'Connor	vocals
Phil Coulter	piano

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