Here I am back home again; I'm here to rest. And all they ask is where I've been, knowing I've been west. I'm the family's unowned boy, golden curls of envied hair, pretty girls with faces fair, see the smile on the black sheep boy.
If you love me, then let me live in peace, please understand, that the black sheep can wear the golden fleece, and hold a winning hand.
I'm the family's unowned boy, golden curls of envied hair, pretty girls with faces fair, see the shine in the black sheep boy.