Pinga Na Goela

The rooster crowed, I'm already awake
The beef and ribs have already slept seasoned
Any stump is firewood here in the backcountry
Call for the barbecue, today it's on the ground fire

The ranch is simple
But it's with an open gate
The rural footprint is the party system
Beer in the cooler doesn't run out or get low
The singers only stop singing, put down the guitar
When they get hoarse

Fat drips on the grill, and we drip in the throat
Making smoke on the yellow straw
The moon enchants the sky, and we sing to her
That scent on the brunette with a hat and buckle

The ranch is simple
But it's with an open gate
The rural footprint is the party system
Beer in the cooler doesn't run out or get low
The singers only stop singing, put down the guitar
When they get hoarse

Fat drips on the grill, and we drip in the throat
Making smoke on the yellow straw
The moon enchants the sky, and we sing to her
That scent on the brunette with a hat and buckle

Fat drips on the grill, and we drip in the throat
Making smoke on the yellow straw
The moon enchants the sky, and we sing to her
That scent on the brunette with a hat and buckle

That scent on the brunette with a hat and buckle
That scent on the brunette with a hat and buckle