[Chorus:]
When Salome plays the drum
The crowd goes deaf and dumb

Swept up by dark sensations

Partially the heat

More so it's the beat
She moves in syncopation


Gazelle on the run
Skirts slit past her thigh
The boys let out a sigh

The beat begins to quicken
Crowd ascends the stairs
Climbin' on the chairs

The plot begins to thicken
Phasers on stun


[Chorus]

Take them to the carnival

Let them hear the conga
Tonight the tempo feels so right
Tomorrow may be wrong


[Instrumental]


Gendarme close her down
Make her leave the town
She caught the flight to Rio

With nothin' to say

Wavin' from the plane

Pours pink champagne
She toasts her loyal trio
It was a lucrative stay


Oh won't you take them to the carnival
Let them hear the conga

Tonight the tempo feels right
Tomorrow may be wrong


Oh won't your take them to the carnival
Let them play for hours
Tonight the weather feels so right

Tomorrow may be showers