I'm pretending to be a good fisherman's woman Just like Anna Inga's mom The gladiator of all fisherman's wives Makes it a lot easier thinking of you On the sea where you have to be a month at a time Working hard in the day Your hands cracking from the cold and the salt In the night when you go to bed You try to sleep by listening to the boat breathing The boat breathing And the only thing The only thing you can think of is me Waiting for you by the window With the brightest red lipstick on my lips Just like Anna waits for her man How will I learn I'll wait
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