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Nau - Music on the Sand
By the green water, by the smell of silt,
Watching with delight the flight of a spiderweb,
A crazy kid beats an empty tin can,
A crazy kid bangs on an old can.
Music on the sand, music on the sand.
Music on the sand, music on the sand.
From the empty space, from the old can,
A sound is extracted, exciting the nerves.
A crazy kid beats terribly and rhythmically
On rusty tanks, on huge cisterns.
Music on the sand, music on the sand.
Music on the sand...
By the green wave, by the old stone,
From a torn shirt, he makes a banner.
From a willow branch, he makes a saber,
And mutters some kind of abracadabra.
He builds castles of sand,
Twirls his finger at his temple.
He builds castles of sand,
Twirls his finger at his temple.
We abandon families, we burn money,
We fight in the junkyard for a resonant canister.
Kitchen women carry frying pans,
With a bucket for paper, ministers walk away.
And to the beat of the drums,
He calls us to follow him.
And to the beat of the drums...
We follow her like beasts
And are restless with longing.
Music on the sand,
Music on the sand...
And I believe!!!!