Waters of March

Sergio MendesSergio Mendes 

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Sergio Mendes

Sérgio Santos Mendes (Brazilian Portuguese: [ˈsɛʁʒju ˈsɐ̃tuz ˈmẽdʒis]; born February 11, 1941) is a Brazilian musician. His career took off with worldwide hits by his band Brasil '66. He has over 55 releases and plays bossa nova heavily crossed with jazz and funk. He was nominated for an Oscar for Best Original Song in 2012 as co-writer of the song "Real in Rio" from the animated film Rio.Mendes, a Brazilian musician, is primarily known in the United States, where his albums were recorded and where most of his touring took place. Mendes is married to Gracinha Leporace, who has performed with him since the early 1970s. Mendes has also collaborated with many artists through the years, including The Black Eyed Peas, with whom he re-recorded in 2006 a version of … more »

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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 
A knot in 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 
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 stick, a stone, it's the end of the road 
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone 
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 
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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