Istanbul
When he first cried, his mother died.I had tried to be his guideWhen he was born I was too young,The father searches for the son
In Istanbul.Give him back to meIn 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 IstanbulGive him back to meIn IstanbulGive me back my brown eyed son
On secret streets in disbelief,Little shadow shows the leadProstitutes stylish and glum,In amongst them you are oneOh, what have I done...
Rolling breathless off the tongue,The vicious street gang slangI lean into a box of pine,Identify the kid as mine...