Tono: D
Introducción:
D Fº A7
When it's fiesta time in Guada-lajara,
Then I long to be back once again
A9(#5) D
In old Mexi-co.
F#m
Where we lived for today,
Am/C B7 Em
Never giving a thought to tomara.
D
To the strumming of gui-tars,
A7
In a hundred grubby bars
D
I would whisper "te amo."
D7 G D
The mari-achis would sere-nade,
A7 D
And they would not shut up till they were paid.
D7 G D
We ate, we drank, and we were merry,
A7 D
And we got typhoid and dysen-tery.
E7 Am G
But best of all, we went to the plaza de toros.
F
Now whenever I start feeling morose,
E7 F
I revive by recalling that scene.
E7 Am G
And names like belmonte, dominguin, and mano-lete,
F
If I live to a hundred and eighty,
E
I shall never forget what they mean.
A GM A
ALTERNATE CHORDS BACK AND FORTH FOR THIS SPOKE PART
D Eb D Eb
(for there is surely nothing more beautiful in this
World than the sight of a lone man facing singlehandedly
D Eb
Out came the matador,
D Eb
Who must have been potted or
D Eb D Eb/A D Eb/A D Eb/A D
Slightly in-sane, but who looked rather bored.
Eb
Then the picadors of course,
D Eb
Each one on his horse,
D Eb D Eb/A D Eb/A D Eb/A
I shouted "ole!" ev'ry time one was gored.
G D
I cheered at the bandil-leros' display,
A7 D
As they stuck the bull in their own clever way,
G D F#m7 B7
For I hadn't had so much fun since the day
Em A7
My brother's dog rover
D Eb
Got run over.
ALTERNATE CHORDS ON THIS SPOKEN PART
D Eb D Eb D
(rover was killed by a pontiac. and it was done with
Such grace and artistry that the witnesses awarded the
D Eb
The moment had come,
D Eb
I swallowed my gum,
D Eb D Eb D Eb D Eb D
We knew there'd be blood on the sand pretty soon.
D Eb
The crowd held it's breath,
D Eb
Hoping that death
D Eb D Eb D Eb D Eb D
Would brighten an otherwise dull after-noon.
D7 G D
At last, the matador did what we wanted him to.
A7 D
He raised his sword and his aim was true.
D7 G D B7
In that moment of truth I suddenly knew
Em A7 D Eb D A7
That someone had stolen my wallet.
A7 D Fº A7
Now it's fiesta time in ak-ron, ohio,
A9(#5) D
But it's back to old Guadalajara I'm longing to go.
F#m Am/C B7 Em
Far away from the strikes of the A.F. of L. and C.I.O.
D
How I wish I could get back
A7
To the land of the wetback,
C7(b5) B7
And forget the Alamo,
Em A7 D Eb D
In old Mexi-co.
SHOUT - Ole!