Fom Foron Fom Fom

Zé Davi, a drunkard, one of those who stands at the counter
Decided to be an accordion player
In our region
Chico Vida band, gained fame in the backlands
Wherever he went, his bad playing
Was the subject of mockery

Fom, foron fom fom
Foron fom fom, foron fom fom
The dust rising and the drunk guys shouting
Saying oh what a great band

The old accordion with holes, made a fonrom fon fon
A rusty triangle, and the tambourine without sound
People stomping their feet, but no one heard the tune
The dust rising, and the drunk guys shouting
Saying oh what a great band

He played with his eyes closed, but the music wouldn't come out
The triangle was a wire, and the hits didn't ring
The bass drum out of rhythm, no one heard the beat
Because the skin was torn, and the people held on
Without knowing where it was going