Let The Canefields Burn

Graeme plays this tuned down half a step to D# _________________________________________________________ E G#m A E There's a painting of my grandfather, on my mothers side F#m G#m A B in the hallway of our homestaed, in a special place of pride E G#m A E with his bulldogs and kanakas, back in eighteen nighty three A E F#m B E add9 in a linen suit and a panama, they say he looked like me. E G#m A E and the story goes he came out, to make a brand new start F#m G#m A B in an effort to forget, a sad affair of the heart E G#m A E so with these romantic notions, to the colonies he came A E F#m B E where he settled in the tropics and made his fortune growing cane. [Refrão]E E Well let the canefields burn, let the flames rise E A E let the politicians and the bankers in the city look up E A E in wonder at the glow at in the sky. E let the canefield burn, let me feel no pain A E B E when I drown my soul in whisky, and dance in the flames. E G#m A E There's a photo of my parents, taken in between the wars F#m G#m A B in London, Rome or Paris, I don't know for shure E G#m A E but it hangs there in the hallway and there's one for every year A G#m F#m B E add9 fortunes made, and fortunes paid, for champagne souveniers. Chorus:....let the canefields burn.... C#m E And they say they're gonna take this all away from me C#m E the cars the cane the homestead, all my family history C#m E A well tomorrow when the bankers come, to settle all their claims E B E add9 let the auctioneer open...with a price for charred remains! Chorus:....let the canefields burn....