On the dark rhythm of a dance
Full of dreams and wisdom
The woman gathers her memories
Even the stupidest and boldest
There is in her a kind of sky
A water of shipwrecks or a flight
Where there is justification and forgiveness
All her life, but barefoot
Blue Tango
Paris welcomes its artists
Paintings, babies, musicians
Offering everyone what they drink
Water to the river, full of snow
It is the illusion of hair
With art, living and dying
On ancient flowers of skin
From death to life
And a lot of pain, a lot of pain
A lot of pain, a lot of pain
Among the green shadows of a bovine
Tasting water at the tamarind
The man who has nothing to invent
Try to dream, try to dream
And try the atoms and the stars
And the fountains and the tiles
And the Turkish bread and another room
Batut Orman, Svejntolerance
Blue tango, blue tango, blue tango
Blue tango, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Blue tango, blue tango, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-ta, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango
Ta-da-di-tam-ta-tam, blue tango