|
Tall and tan and young and lovely |
|
The girl from Ipanema goes walking |
|
And when she passes, each one she passes goes - ah |
|
When she walks, she's like a samba |
|
That swings so cool and sways so gentle |
|
That when she passes, each one she passes goes - ooh |
|
(Ooh) But I watch her so sadly |
|
How can I tell her I love her |
|
Yes I would give my heart gladly |
|
But each day, when she walks to the sea |
|
She looks straight ahead, not at me |
|
Tall, (and) tan, (and) young, (and) lovely |
|
The girl from Ipanema goes walking |
|
And when she passes, I smile - but she doesn't see (doesn't see) |
|
(She just doesn't see, she never sees me, ) |
