Texto
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Transportador
Cor de Fundo
Ferramentas
Tamanho
Tamanho
Altura
Altura
Tipo de gaita: Diatônica
Tom: C
I had to tab this up an octave because of that darned A (-3").
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Well I'll tell you a sto-ry
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Of whis-key and mys-tics and men
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And about the believers
And how the whole thing began
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First there were women
And children obey-ing the moon
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Then daylight brought wisdom
And fever and sickness too soon
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You can try to remind me
Instead of the other you can
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You can help to insure that
We all insecure are command
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If you don't give a listen
I won't try to tell your new hand
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This is it can't you see that
We all have our ends in the band
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And if all of the teachers
And preachers of wealth were areigned
We could see quite a future
For me in the literal sands
And if all of the people
Could claim to expect such regrets
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We'd have no forgiveness
Forgetfullness, painful remorse.
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So I tell you I tell you I tell you
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We must send a- way
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da da da
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We must try to find a new ans-wer
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In-stead of a way.
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