With bony hands I hold my partner
on soulless feet we cross the floor
the music stops as if to answer
an empty knocking at the door

It seems his skin was sweet as mango
when last I held him to my breast
but now we dance this grim fandango
and will four years before we rest.

With bony hands I hold my partner

on soulless feet we cross the floor

the music stops as if to answer

an empty knocking at the door

It seems his skin was sweet as mango

when last I held him to my breast

but now we dance this grim fandango

and will four years before we rest.

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