Lletres: Jethro Tull. Crest Of A Knave. Said She Was a Dancer.

She said, she was a dancer
If I believed it, it was my business
She surely knew a thing or two about control
Next to the bar we hit the samovar
She almost slipped right through my fingers
It was snowing outside and in her soul

Well, maybe you're a dancer
And maybe I'm the King of Old Siam
I thought it through best to let the illusion roll
I wouldn't say I've never heard that tale before
And my frozen little senorita
But if your dream is good
Why not share it when the nights are cold?

Hey Moscow, what's your story?
Lady, take your time, don't hurry
Maybe a student of the agricultural plan
Hey Moscow, what's your name?
If you don't want to say, don't worry
It would probably be hard for me to make it scan

With her phrase book in the silk soft hand
She spoke in riddles while the vodka listened
I said, "Let me look up love, if I might be so bold"
She was the nearest thing to rock and roll
That side of the velvet curtain
That separates eastern steel from western gold

Hey Miss Moscow, what's your story?
You needn't speak aloud, just whisper
Am I just the closest thing to an Englishman?
You've seen me in your magazines or maybe on state television
I'm your Pepsi-Cola but you won't take me out the can

She said, she was a dancer, so she did

She said, she was a dancer
If I believed it, it was my business
It felt like a merry dance that I was being led
So I stole one kiss, it was a near miss
She looked at me like I was Jack, the ripper
She leaned in close, "Goodnight", was all she said
So I took myself off to bed