Harry Belafonte, Miriam Makeba - One More Dance lyrics
[Harry Belafonte, Miriam Makeba - One More Dance lyrics]
Darling, go home, your husband is ill
Is he ill? Let them give him a pill
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, your husband is worse
Is he worse? Well, I am no nurse
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, your husband is dead
Is he dead? There's no more to be said
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, the will's to be read
What's that you said?
I said the will's to be read
Oh, no, no, my dear Franz
This is no time to dance
I must go weep for my poor old man
I must go weep for my poor old man
(I must go weep for her poor old man)
Ooh wee and now to move on
It gives me a great deal of pleasure
To present twelve men and three
Accompanists, fifteen all together, who
Three years ago started off just as
A group to tour with me
Around the country in a concert
That I was doing so
Wonderful were the men that they decided
To stay together gives me
A great deal of pleasure to
Present the Belafonte Folk Singers
Is he ill? Let them give him a pill
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, your husband is worse
Is he worse? Well, I am no nurse
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, your husband is dead
Is he dead? There's no more to be said
Oh, come my dear Franz, just one more dance
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
Then I'll go home to my poor old man
(Then she'll go home to her poor old man)
Darling, go home, the will's to be read
What's that you said?
I said the will's to be read
Oh, no, no, my dear Franz
This is no time to dance
I must go weep for my poor old man
I must go weep for my poor old man
(I must go weep for her poor old man)
Ooh wee and now to move on
It gives me a great deal of pleasure
To present twelve men and three
Accompanists, fifteen all together, who
Three years ago started off just as
A group to tour with me
Around the country in a concert
That I was doing so
Wonderful were the men that they decided
To stay together gives me
A great deal of pleasure to
Present the Belafonte Folk Singers