My feet, they are naked, my hands on my hips,
my eyes to the ocean and open my lips.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.
They come with a crash on the crest of a roar,
and they?re out of their boats and they?re on to the shore.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.
And they wrench with the rain and they strain with the rope,
they dig I the sand and they bend to the smoke.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.
And the weight of the men and the sound of the sea,
the hardness of them and the softness of me.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.
And I'll stand with the fishermen, silent and gay,
I?ll eat of the sun and I'll drink of the spray.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.
Eeeee-aaaaa ooooh los pescadores.