Cifras
Passando o Mango Na Morte

  D  G  D  G  F  Bb  D7  G  D  G  D  G  
                                                                                                                                D  
A morte é uma potra xucra que não se amansa no mais
                                                                                                                  G  
Um dia o vivente cai e vai pra dentro do chão,
                                                                                                                             D  
Pouco importa se é patrão, capataz ou peão campeiro
                                                                                                                                  G  
A morte não tem parceiro, nem faz grau de distinção
                                                                                                                        D  
Nem por isso tenho medo vou quando chegar a hora
                                                                                                                     G  
Se me enredar nas espora, são os cavaco da lida
                                                                                                                D  
Quando o rodeio da vida, embretar as esperanças
                                                                                                                          G  
Então só serei lembrança, porque me fui de partida
          G7                                    C                                                            G  
Não sou de fazer lamuria, ficar chorando mazela...
                                                        D                                                    G  
Aos tombos me livro dela amadrinhado c'oa sorte,
     G7                                      C                                                            G  
Arreglando meus arreios, metendo bocal e freio
                                                     F                                                                 G      D  
Faço da vida um floreio, passando o mango na morte
  D  G  F  Bb  D7  G  D  G  D  G  
                                                                                                                          D  
Por isso meu companheiro, vou gambeteando a danada
                                                                                                                     G  
A trotezito na estrada, sem pensar na minha ida,
                                                                                                                D  
Da morte não tem saída, vamos pelear e viver
                                                                                                        G  
Educar e aprender, dando mais valor a vida
                                                                                                                          D  
Vou pilchando meu destino de alegria e de prazer
                                                                                                                                     G  
Pois de que adianta sofrer pelas migalhas que herdamos
                                                                                                                        D  
Se na morte não levamos os nossos bens materiais
                                                                                                                        G  
Só vão junto os ideais e o amor que proporcionamos