Fogareu
Geraldinho Lins
Bonfire
Look at the fire
Look at the bonfire
Burning the ends
Of my hat's straw
Where's Ritinha who doesn't see Ceceu?
She's got grass in her mouth
Lost in thought looking at the sky
And gently he took the accordion
Singing me to sleep
And gently he took the accordion
Singing me to sleep
At Carneirinho's Saint John, my love
