Chords
Fulanos e Sicranos

Key: F

Introduction: Bm    F#7    Bm    

                                                          F#7                                                                                                      Bm  
Pensei que fosse um galope, um sonho de à trote acariciando de toda
                                                                                                                  F#7                                                      Bm  
Esta milonga sem rima que enrodilhada nas clinas rejeita tudo que dobra
                                             F#7                                                                                                      Bm  
Podia ser de à cavalo este entono de galo este manejo de freio
                                                                                                                  F#7                                                                         Bm  
Este olhar de posseiro que amadrinhado nos tentos, estima o suor que lhe sobra
                                                     F#7                                                                                                         Bm  
Pensei que fossemos cúmplices, múltiplos meigos mansos soltos vagos
                                                                  F#7                                                 Bm  
Cabeça de gado potro e rodeio na leva dos arremates
                                                     F#7                                                                                    Bm  
Pensei que fossemos caça, várzea, rio cheio campo quebranto
                                                                        F#7                                                                 Bm  
Blanco, chimango peão e chibeiro, no aparte do buenas tardes
                F#7                                    Bm  
(Ai milonga, milonga buena
             F#7                                    Bm  
Ai milonga, milonga buena)
                                                     F#7                                                                                                            Bm  
Podia haver mais um catre, uma rodada de mate uma noitada, um afeto
                                                                                                                  F#7                                                      Bm  
Um bem-me-quer descoberto uma qualquer novidade alheia à nossa vontade
                                                        F#7                                                                         Bm  
Podia haver mais que terra, pouca miséria junta carreta
                                                                F#7                                                    Bm  
Soga, soiteira canga e arado, benfeitora e machado
                                                        F#7                                                                      Bm  
Pensei que fôssemos fruto, suco, bagaço lenha, coivara
                                                                                                  F#7                                                              Bm  
Verde e queimada na alienação das porteiras do mata-burro à estrada
                                                     F#7                                                                              Bm  
Pensei que fôssemos bando, nômades músicos mouros e manos
                                                                          F#7                                                            Bm  
Fulanos, sicranos sábios paisanos no despertar das manadas
( )
                                                F#7                                                                                                                                    Bm  
Talvez me faça costado outra milonga ou gateado outra figueira, outra sombra
                                                                                                                F#7                                                      Bm  
Outra paixão sem delongas outra carícia antiga, mimosa como a saudade
                                                  F#7                                                                                                                 Bm  
Talvez nem seja preciso, usar o mesmo alarido do quero-quero teatino
                                                                                                                F#7                                                            Bm  
Do boitatá de mangueira prá afugentar as ovelhas, arrebanhadas pro gasto
                                                          F#7                                                                                                 Bm  
Preciso acostumar meu dom a aperfeiçoar a voz fortalecer o rebanho
                                                                                                     F#7                                                         Bm  
Ah que tolice a minha fazendo minha vidinha, encimesmado de abraços
                                                     F#7                                                                                                 Bm  
Preciso amamentar a fome toda dos guachos regar a sede dos pastos
                                                                                                        F#7                                                            Bm  
Dar pérola aos porcos fazer tudo o que gosto, prá dar porfia ao passo