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 |