Antiga Palavra (The Ancient Word) Songtext

The love that flows down my arms, and, into my hands, goes; the distant smile of the boys, who flock, hanging on the dock, bring back that grandfather, crossing himself, that grandfather, to me, all fishermen?s master. He could tame a storm of any shape or form, that grandfather, my grandfather... One day? he sailed away, across the sea, so far away... Sometimes, I hear his voice whispering in my ear an ancient word, as he stands on the bow, with the choppy sea bellow, crossing himself with his magic knife, that grandfather, the all fishermen?s master of my life. He could cut through a storm of any shape or form, that grandfather, my grandfather... One day... he sailed away, across the sea, so far away...