Fisherman's Woman

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