Written by: regina branham

Clap your hands for the man
who can tap with his feet and
hold a rose in his hand

Black hat tilted, so slightly;
spine held straight
In charges a senorita
like a bull from the gate

Both heads cock-back
as he offers her the rose
a snap! quick jerk forward 
clenched teeth, claims it
beneath her nose

He steps, she steps
her leg glides fire down his thigh
his hand dances on hot coals
travels down her spine

Tension of passion continues
then builds, until at last a silent guitar
heated love has been conquered
in a dark, slanky, back-street bar