Come on, come on!
Come on, come on!
From Salva to Vişeu,
the man tames the iron,
The pickaxe beats hard,
Thought for the proud lady from the porch, oh-oh!
From Salva to Viseu.
Come on, come on!
Come on, come on!
From Salva to Vişeu,
the man, the mountain and the sky
meet in the narrow path
Thought for the kids in the porch
From Salva to Vişeu.
We are the workers passing by whistling
Neither rain, nor sun or wind can stop us.
We are the workers passing by whistling
Neither rain, nor sun or wind can stop us.
From Salva to Vişeu,
the train has its way
and I always see my father
thought for the kids in the porch, oh-ho
Pass from Salva to Vişeu
We are the workers passing by whistling
Neither rain, nor sun or wind can stop us.
We are the workers passing by whistling
Neither rain, nor sun or wind can stop us.