| The house is full of life
|
| Life is change
|
| Even death is not stable
|
| The house is full of whatever I bring to the table
|
| If there is no supper, the children look to me
|
| Then to the table and then to the sea
|
| A son of a fisherman, like I used to be
|
| I spent many a day staring out at that sea
|
| Water apologizes for sorrow endlessly
|
| And what change will come when our will is done?
|
| I got married to my wife, she’s lovely
|
| And I had a son
|
| Giving birth nearly killed me
|
| Some say I died
|
| And all that survived was my lullabies
|
| The panic room is now a nursery
|
| And there’s renovators renovating constantly
|
| In the winter, the water is frank with me
|
| Says, «Son, there is still a fisherman out on that sea
|
| And he’s looking for his family
|
| He’s looking for his family
|
| He’s looking for the son of the sea
|
| He’s looking for the son of the sea» |