My legs are all buried in salt, the way.
|
As my lips move out all of my words, the way.
|
But this can't be all that we have to wait.
|
But this can't be all that we have to wait.
|
|
Pressing and pulling these pains, the way.
|
They listen and listen for all the way.
|
But this can't be all that we have to wait.
|
But this can't be all that we have to wait.
|
|
Do you hear the wind, child?
|
Calling out the salt plains.
|
Listen to the wind, child,
|
It's calling, calling out your name.
|
I was born of sun beams,
|
Warming up our limbs.
|
Born up from the earth, child.
|
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
(But this can't be all that we have to wait.)
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
(But this can't be all that we have to wait.)
|
No, I'll never come back down,
|
Never come down from here.
|
|
-----------------
|
Salt
|
| Portugal. The Man |
