[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