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You leave toe prints on black sand
On black nights
At Numazu's beaches
While we sit on the levy behind Goyotei
As pear juice runs down our chins
The fishing lights on the water are pearlescent ,
For softening our shining faces like
We're drinking through our eyes

You moved your lips around
A song on the balustrade
While I held cheap cognac on my tongue
And danced a number
In the margins of high society
While Vienna sang with you,
I turned a pirouette and promptly fell -
- Laughing -
With my bare feet matching
The colors of the street

Merci beaucoup,
You tell me to keep my eyes closed, monsieur,
As you slip dainties on my hand
A sparkle to rival the city
Reflected in irises, pupils like
Greed
I want to keep taking it in

Palms that slap animal hides like tribal heartbeats
In their pale pink stoccato
Look dusted against dark eyelids
And Africa
Tells us to paint our faces
The only thing we'll wear as we breathe fire
Like we did in Santa Anas

The flamenco dancers are beconing
You and me to join them
As their hips trace what universal movement we know of
We sing like gypsies with our
Skin like cream
Fair hair flying
But our feet are already moving on