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Tall and tan and young and handsome |
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The boy from Ipanema goes walking |
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And when he passes, each girl he passes goes, ah |
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When he walks he's like a samba |
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That swings so cool and sways so gentle |
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That when he passes each girl, he passes goes, ah |
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Oh, but I watch him so sadly |
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How can I tell him I love him? |
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Yes, I would give my heart gladly |
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But each day when he walks to the sea |
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He looks straight ahead, not at me |
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Tall, and tan, and young and handsome |
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The boy from Ipanema goes walking |
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And when he passes I smile but he doesn't see |
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No, he doesn't see, he doesn't see me |
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Oh, but I watch him so sadly |
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How can I tell him I love him? |
|
Yes, I would give my heart gladly |
|
But each day when he walks to the sea |
|
He looks straight ahead, not at me |
|
Tall, and tan, and young and handsome |
|
The boy from Ipanema goes walking |
|
And when he passes I smile but he doesn't see |
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He just doesn't see, he just doesn't see |
