(And Your Bird Can Sing)
One, two, three, four
You tell me that you've danced in every hall in town
And your hips go schwiing, but you don't get me
You don't get me
You say you've danced seven chachas
And your hips go free, but you can't see me
You can't see me
When your dancing sessions
Start to weigh you down
Look in my direction
I'll be 'round, I'll be 'round
You tell me that you've heard every band there is
And your hips go schwiing , but you can't hear me
You can't hear me
When your hips are broken
Will it bring you down?
You may be awoken
I'll be 'round, I'll be 'round
You tell me that you've danced in every hall in town
And your hips go schwiing, but you don't get me
You don't get me
That was it, wasn't it?