Chords
De Chão Batido

Key: E

Introduction: E B7 E A E B7 E 

                                                                                                                        B7
Em xucras bailantas de fundo de campo
                                                                                              E
O fole e tranco vão acolherados
                                                                                                B7
O índio bombeia pro taco da bota
                                                                                                                        E
E o destino galopa num sonho aporreado
                                                                                                          B7
Polvadeira levanta entre o sarandeio
                                                                                                              E
E é lindo o rodeio de chinas bonitas
                                                          A               E                     B7
Quem tem lida dura e a idéia madura
                                                                                                      E
Com trago de pura a alma palpita
                                          B7                                         E
(Atávico surungo de chão batido
                                            B7                                                       E
Xucrismo curtido na tarca do tempo
                                          A                                                                 E
Refaz invernadas de ânsias perdidas
                                              B7                                                   E
E encilha a vida no lombo do vento)
 EB7EAEB7E
  E                                                                                                                 B7
Faz parte do mundo do homem campeiro
                                                                                                          E
Dançar altaneiro no fim de semana
                                                                                                                    B7
O gaúcho se arrima nos braços da china
                                                                                                                    E
E cutuca a sina com um trago de cana
                                                                                                                                              B7
Basta estar num fandango do nosso Rio Grande
                                                                                                                          E
Pra ver que se expande esse elo gaúcho
                                                  A                       E                         B7
Esta pura verdade que não tem idade
                                                                                                                                E
É a nossa identidade agüentando o repuxo
B7                                         E
(Atávico surungo de chão batido
                                            B7                                                       E
Xucrismo curtido na tarca do tempo
                                          A                                                                 E
Refaz invernadas de ânsias perdidas
                                              B7                                                   E
E encilha a vida no lombo do vento)
 EB7EAEB7E

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