The boys expect to tangle with the wishes in their hair
Make sure you play their favorite song or they begin to stare
All braced for syncopation they boogie till they’re sore
They always take their shoes off they leave ‘em by the door And blasted by the time to even up the glass
The look like Jackson Pollock when they fall down on their arse All the women do the talking as the band begins to play
And my jacket starts to talk to me again... again
It’s Friday night and bleary eyed they’re drunk before they start Jazz and tarantella tell the secrets of their heart
Meet you out in Kjarval’s Park now don’t you tell a soul
I got myself a blanket a toothbrush and a towel
I’ll bring along a bone for dogs out baying at the moon
And hung around your pretty neck that little silver spoon
The chains around your ankles I promise to set free
You can lie down on my blanket and then do the same for me
In the café you can join the queue
There’s been a rush on bean curd stew
Hey look at Jack without his head
His shoes on fire in his chicken shed
Ah! Fly away Jack ain’t got no bread
His jacket’s caught fire and his donkey’s dead
Jazz and tarantella instead of the blues... Jazz and tarantella instead of the blues...
All that jazz and tarantella instead of the blues