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 your love be a flame not an ember, say it's 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!) It's 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 hearts hard as stone or mahogany, that's why I'm in such exquisite agony.

My soul is on fire. It's a flame 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, every 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 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 we'll never part.

I know too well, I'm underneath your spell, so darling if you smell something burning, it's my heart.

Take your cigarette from its holder, and burn your initials on my shoulder.

Fracture my spine, and swear that your mine, as we dance to the masochism tango.