My feet, they are naked, my hands on my hips

My eyes to the ocean, and open my lips

Ee-ah, oh, 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

Ee-ah oh, los pescadores

And they wrench with the wave, and they strain with the rope

They dig in the sand and they bend to the smoke

Ee-ah, oh, los pescadores

And the weight of the men and the sound of the sea

The hardness of them and the softness of me

Ee-ah, oh, los pescadores

And I'll stand with the fishermen, silent and gay

I'll eat off the sun and I'll drink off the spray

Ee-ah, oh, los pescadores

Ee-ah, oh, los pescadores