1. |
Justino plays for tourists, right outside
a noisy bar |
| |
Hear the heartbeat of his fingers on the
strings of his guitar |
| |
And from his lower lip, hangs a pencil-thin
cigar |
| |
But his eyes move when he watches Dorothea |
| |
|
2. |
Dorothea walks the shabby streets, her
eyes always cast down |
| |
Nimble fingers snatch up any lost coins
on the ground |
| |
Magician-like she stashes the treasure
she has found |
| |
She stops and stares at Red Shoes
in a window |
| |
|
3. |
One cold and dreary Tuesday, when the
sky hung like a rag |
| |
Dorothea sidled up the street, clutching
a tattered bag |
| |
She ducked inside a shoe store with her
dreams on a price tag |
|
And walked out in triumphant new Red
Shoes |
| |
|
| chorus |
(Oh) those Red Shoes,
those magic Red Shoes |
| |
In them she was pretty; in them she could
dance |
| |
Justino's music moved her, took her by
the hand |
| |
And romanced her when she wore Red
Shoes |
| |
|
4. |
Justino plays his street guitar, but his
fingers, they move slow |
| |
The run-down streets of the old town aren't
where the tourists go |
| |
And love, it is a mystery that he will
never know |
| |
But his eyes move when he watches Dorothea |
| |
|
5. |
Dorothea's hair is silver now; the urchins
call her "crone" |
| |
Locked up in her old maid's room, she
spends her nights alone |
| |
And the scuffed and broken Red
Shoes? They will never take her
home |
| |
Not even if she clicks her heels three
times |
| |
|
| chorus |
(But) ... |
| |
|
coda |
Justino's music moved her, took her by
the hand |
| |
And romanced her when she wore Red
Shoes |
| |
Romanced her, when she, she wore Red
Shoes |