Chamando Tropa

Not even the late afternoon haunted the autumn
Found me pushing the troop in a chamamé
The cattle with May fur and marked fate, heading to the salting
Kicking up road dust, towards Bagé

If it weren't for the times of the troop, shout and dog
If it weren't for Inácio's turns, who is a good pointer
São Luiz would veer with rain, storm, and lightning striking the bay
Altar of field and distance, brother drover

#chorus#
Go, on a good mule, Inácio Leal
Calling the front of the troop that denies water
Leaving the lost homeland there in Uruguay
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Bell, bell, spur, the packer
Moo and shout of 'come...giddy up...off you go!...'
In the trail of smuggling, I know the land and come tired
From changing horses so much, pushing cattle

Saint Peter, protect the good ones coming from work
With a poncho dripping on the hip, heavy and cold
And they know that nothing at the blacksmith's for the troop, what a hardship!
Mixing road dust and river foam.

#chorus#