Oh the tango is done with a thin black moustache,

a wide scarlet sash, black boots and a whip

Or the tango is done with seafaring trash,

callous and brash, fresh off the ship

Or the tango is done as a dangerous dance,

a treacherous step and if one should trip

The frail body breaks with a snap and a twist,

And a gold watch slips onto a thick tattooed wrist

And a gray merchant ship turns black in the sun,

as it heaves to the East when the tango is done.



Butterflies mounted on fields of black velvet

Neatly arranged in gleaming glass trays

One-eyed Etruscans play follow-the-leader

Forever around the edge of the vase



The phonograph's playing an old broken record

A tango and over and over it plays

Over it plays

Over it plays



A medieval tapestry hangs like a warning,

A needlepoint forest of dark green and brown.

The scene is the hunt, you will notice the hunter.

He takes careful aim as your eye travels down,



And finally rests upon the real victim,

Lying quite still in a silk dressing gown.

Lying quite still at the edge of the carpet.

One arm flung out for the peacocks to peck.

Blending in well with the blue and green background

Except for the bright scarlet sash round the neck



He was a collector of beautiful strangers

And life was a party right up to the end

The door always opened to love and loves dangers

Though dead, a lover, a stranger, a friend



Butterflies mounted on fields of black velvet

Neatly arranged in gleaming glass trays

One-eyed Etruscans play follow-the-leader

Forever around the edge of the vase

The phonograph's playing an old broken record

A tango and over and over it plays

Over it plays

Writer : LEIBER/STOLLER
Copyright : Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC