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Porteira do tempo

Key: D

Introduction:  Am   A7   Dm   Am   Dm   E7   Am   A7   Dm   Am   E7   Am  

difficulty
easy |||||
                         Am                                                                                                           E7                                                                                                                           Am 
Garoa miuda, o pranto da quincha, a noite anda triste o quarto vazio
                                                                               A7                                                                                 Dm                                                         E7                                             Am 
A canha queimando,o agosto do peito, teu jeito morena, meu disvario
                                                                                                                                                                     E7                                                                                                                                     Am 
As horas demoram, acendem demencias, acordam lembranças, eternas fatais
                                                           A7                                                         Dm                                                                                           E7                                                                     Am 
Desparam desejos, galopam em bases, miragens de um tempo, que não volta mais.
(refrão)
                           A                                                                                           A7                                                           D  Dm                                                     E                                   B             E 
O rancho, o rosto e o som, de um bandonion e loucos bordoneios de milonga
             A                                                                                         A7                                   D  Dm                                                                         E7                                         AmA 
O mate, um gosto amargo e a solidão, eu bebo a madrugada que se alonga.
           A                                                                                         A7                                                               D  Dm                                                     E                                     B           E 
O rancho, o rosto e o som, de um bandonion e loucos bordoneios de milonga
             A                                                                                       A7                                     D  Dm                                                                         E7                                         AmA 
O mate, um gosto amargo e a solidão, eu bebo a madrugada que se alonga.

     Am                                                                                                                                                       E7                                                                                                                                 Am 
São tantas assombras, do mesmo candieiro, os mesmos pelegos, paredes iguais,
                                                                                           A7                                                                       Dm                                                             E7                                                     Am 
Quem sabe não chegas, já nada me importa, se cruzas a porta dos meus irreais,
                                                                                           A7                                                                       Dm                                                             E7                                                     Am 
Quem sabe não chegas, já nada me importa, se cruzas a porta dos meus irreais,
(refrão)
                             A                                                                                           A7                                                           D  Dm                                                     E                                   B             E 
O rancho, o rosto e o som, de um bandonion e loucos bordoneios de milonga
               A                                                                                         A7                                   D  Dm                                                                         E7                                         AmA 
O mate, um gosto amargo e a solidão, eu bebo a madrugada que se alonga.
                           A                                                                                           A7                                                           D  Dm                                                     E                                   B             E 
O rancho, o rosto e o som, de um bandonion e loucos bordoneios de milonga
                           A                                                                                           A7                                                           D  Dm                                                     E                                   B             E 
O mate, um gosto amargo e a solidão, eu bebo a madrugada que se alonga.
                                                                                                         D  Dm                                                     E                                   B             E 
Eu bebo a madrugada que se alonga.