Morrissey - Istanbul

When he first cried
His mother died
I had tried to be his guide
When he was born I was too young
The father searches for the son

In Istanbul
Give him back to me
Oh, 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 Istanbul
Give him back to me
In Istanbul
Give me back my brown-eyed son

On secret streets in disbelief
Little shadow shows the lead
Prostitutes; stylish and glum
In amongst them you are one
Oh, what have I done?

Rolling breathless off the tongue
The vicious street gang slang
I lean into a box of pine
Identify the kid as mine

Istanbul
Istanbul