Tango

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