Cifras
Let The Canefields Burn

Tono: E

Introducción:

dificultad
muy fácil |||||
E                                                                    G#m                      A                                    E  
There's a painting of my grandfather, on my mothers side
                        F#m                                 G#m                              A                                         B  
in the hallway of our homestaed, in a special place of pride
                                E                            G#m                                      A                                 E  
with his bulldogs and kanakas, back in eighteen nighty three
                  A                                         E              F#m                         B                         E  
in a linen suit and a panama, they say he looked like me.
  E                                                      G#m                            A                                      E  
and the story goes he came out, to make a brand new start
                     F#m                    G#m                      A                                 B  
in an effort to forget, a sad affair of the heart
                          E                                    G#m                                    A                      E  
so with these romantic notions, to the colonies he came
                             A                                    E                                                    F#m            B              E  
where he settled in the tropics and made his fortune growing cane.
E  
Well let the canefields burn, let the flames rise
E                         A                                                                         E  
let the politicians and the bankers in the city look up
E                                                                 A              E  
in wonder at the glow at in the sky.
E  
let the canefield burn, let me feel no pain
                        A                                         E                         B                              E  
when I drown my soul in whisky, and dance in the flames.
E                                                         G#m                              A                                    E  
There's a photo of my parents, taken in between the wars
          F#m                                 G#m            A                                      B  
in London, Rome or Paris, I don't know for shure
E                                                                      G#m                                         A                                 E  
but it hangs there in the hallway and there's one for every year
  A                                                 G#m                                         F#m                 B              E  
fortunes made, and fortunes paid, for champagne souveniers.
Chorus:....let the canefields burn....
C#m                                                                                            E  
And they say they're gonna take this all away from me
C#m                                                                                                    E  
the cars the cane the homestead, all my family history
                C#m                                                                                    E                                            A  
well tomorrow when the bankers come, to settle all their claims
                          E                                                            B                                            E  
let the auctioneer open...with a price for charred remains!
Chorus:....let the canefields burn....