The coladeira (Portuguese pronunciation: [kulɐˈdejɾɐ]; Cape Verdean Creole: koladera, [kolɐˈdeɾɐ]) is a music genre from Cape Verde.
As a music genre the coladeira is characterized by having a variable tempo, from allegro to andante, a 2-beat bar, and in its most traditional form by having an harmonic structure based in a cycle of fifths, while the lyrics structure is organized in strophes that alternate with a refrain. The coladeira is almost always monotonic, i.e. composed in just one tonality. Compositions that use more than a tonality are rare and generally they are cases of passing from a minor to major tonality or vice versa.
As it was said before, in its most traditional form the coladeira follows a cycle of fifths. This characteristic is a direct heritage from the morna (check main article — morna). Even so, many composers (especially more recent ones) do not always use this structure.
Also in the melodic line one can find characteristics similar to the morna (check main article — morna), for example the alternation between the main strophes and the refrain, the sweeping melodic line, the syncopation, etc. has changed it a little.
Wooo.. what a trial that a gwan a Rasta yard,
Look at them a come with the machete and them gun.
Them come.. them reap what them no sow
What a gwan in the early morning a Rasta ganja field.
Come into the mountains,
Sight I and I grandfather,
Planting marijuana, naw make no war.
Come with your disrespect,
Take away I chalice, carry gone a campyard.
And when you reach the campyard,
You mash-up I kutchie,
And the whole a Rasta weed gone aboard.
You know why?
If you never sell it,
How come you could a tell I, how much a pound for it?
Hear this!
Early, early morning the man them on parade,
Run Rasta, run them a come.
Hide the barn, hide the kutchie!
Come with your disrespect,
Start boy-up I grandfather,
Haul and pull him all over.
Take away Sister Mary,
From around the fire,
Carry gone a prison ??.
Come into the mountains,
Sight I and I grandfather,
Planting marijuana, naw make no war.
I love the birds them,
The birds love the Rasta,
We reap marijuana together.
Why you come to the mountains,
Trouble I and I grandfather?
Planting marijuana, naw make no war.
We naw run, we naw run!
Adopted from King Solomon,
This marijuana, granted to the hands of black man.
Now and then we smoke it,
Another time we boil it,
Good for all sickness and pain.
Come into the mountains,
Sight I and I grandfather,
Planting marijuana, naw make no war.
Go back a station, I come to save creation,
Free marijuana at large.
Go back a station, trouble some police man,
We planting marijuana, naw make no war.
Come into the mountains,
Sight I and I grandfather.