BACK		L I T T L E		I N D I A N
		She doesn't like mobile phones She plays the lute She likes the music from the eigthies And painting is her dream When we walk down the streets She has effort to keep pace with me She loves dramas, love stories But not the usual romantic stuff I told her about the little Indian They laughed at because he was small That made him sad, our little Indian And he only thought: "I wish I were tall" One day he went into the prairie There he saw two bandits Our little Indian hid behind a stone So the bandits couldn't see him   He became a hero our Indian No one laughed because he wasn't tall That made him happy, our Indian And he only said: "I am proud to be so small"