Memoria Del Cuero

In the hold of a slave ship
came the candombe, a prisoner.
In the memory of the prisoner
sleeps the candombe waiting for the leather.
Healing the fear and the seasickness,
healing the blow from the jailer,
they come playing, they come playing, they come playing.

In the hold of a slave ship
the hands are pounding the ground.
Hands pounding hands, pounding the ground,
just like a drum, wood and leather.
Days go by and only darkness remains
memory of the leather.
They come singing, they come singing, they come singing.
Where's the sky, where's the sky?
Where's God, I can't see Him?

On the deck of a cargo ship
came my grandfather saving the leather.
My grandfather came on an allied ship,
four ports turned him away.
With all the hunger, with all the fear
with what the looting didn't take...
He came escaping, he came escaping, he came escaping.

Where's the sky, where's the sky?
Where's God, I can't see Him?