Band The Take Your Partner By The Hand Lyrics

Take Your Partner By The Hand Lyrics

She walks alone down a sleazy backstreet

 Around a corner, up an alley to a dead end

 There under a small blue light

 She enters an unmarked doorway

 (a low heartbeat, a low pounding escapes into the night)

 This is a place she goes to fulfill a very basic need

 Something people have been doing since the dawn of man

 To communicate without talking

 If she needs something

 She makes a gesture with her hand

 And mouths what she wants

 She wants to make a connection

 A certain kind of connection

 No this is not about something from the black market

 This is about no questions

 This is about smoke and sweat and beats

 This is about no message

 

 Chorus:

 Take your partner by the hand

 He's a woman, she's a man

 What's so hard to understand

 Take your partner by the hand

 Mona in the promised land

 Take your partner by the hand

 Keep it simple if you can

 Take your partner by the hand

 

 At the club they circle around some sex goddess like vultures

 Flashbulbs popping

 Like bees around their queen

 She is completely indifferent to all the commotion

 And orders some mango tango ice cream by sign language

 She's approached by some wild-eyed poet drunk with love

 I like her easy refusal, the way she shakes her head

 She lives these days in the attic of an old dance hall

 That's been shut down for years

 And swears there's times when she can hear feet shuffling below

 And can see the shadows swaying, moving to the music

 

 Chorus (first half)

 

 Elevator going up

 Fifth floor

 Lady's handbags, shoes, leather accessories, and electronics

 Wait a minute, where am i, on this elevator to nowhere

 Going up, going down

 Then like a hallucination

 I saw her out of the corner of my eye

 Studying some shoes very carefully

 She definitely had a particular purpose for these shoes in mind

 Then as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared

 Back into the slash and burn of new york

 Ah, stuck in traffic

 Crosstown, the stress of not moving

 She described it as like being locked in a car

 With a madman behind the wheel

 And the radio tuned to static

 

 Chorus