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Águas de março (Elis e Tom) Songtext
von Antônio Carlos Jobim

Águas de março (Elis e Tom) Songtext

A stick, a stone, it′s the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it′s a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it′s a trap, it′s a gun

The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
The knot of the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all

It's the wind blowing free, it′s the end of the slope
It's a beam, it′s a void, it's a hunch, it′s a hope
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart

The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a slingshot′s stone
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
A fight, a bet, the fange of a bow


The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay in the face, it′s a loss, it's a find
A spear, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale

A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The sound of a shot in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump
It′s a girl, it's a rhyme, it′s a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it′s the mud, it's the mud

A float, a drift, a flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail, the promise of spring
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it′s the joy in your heart

A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
It′s a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night

A pin, a needle, a sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue


And the river talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the road
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road

A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A knife, a death, the end of the run
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It′s the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart

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