Another familiar type of lovesong is the passionate or firy variety, usually in tango tempo, in which the singer exhorts his partner to haunt him and taunt him and, if at all possible, to consum
With a kiss of fire. this particular illustration of this genre is called the masochism tango.
I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,
But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.
You can raise welts
Like nobody else,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
Let our love be a flame, not an ember,
Say its me that you want to dismember.
Blacken my eye,
Set fire to my tie,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
At your command
Before you here I stand,
My heart is in my hand. ecch!
Its here that I must be.
My heart entreats,
Just hear those savage beats,
And go put on your cleats
And come and trample me.
Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany,
Thats why Im in such exquisite agony.
My soul is on fire,
Its aflame with desire,
Which is why I perspire
When we tango.
You caught my nose
In your left castanet, love,
I can feel the pain yet, love,
Evry time I hear drums.
And I envy the rose
That you held in your teeth, love,
With the thorns underneath, love,
Sticking into your gums.
Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches.
The last time I needed twenty stitches
To sew up the gash
That you made with your lash,
As we danced to the masochism tango.
Bash in my brain,
And make me scream with pain,
Then kick me once again,
And say well never part.
I know too well
Im underneath your spell,
So, darling, if you smell
Something burning, its my heart.
Excuse me!
Take your cigarette from its holder,
And burn your initials in my shoulder.
Fracture my spine,
And swear that youre mine,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
