| There’s a dancer from Argentina with raven hair,
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| I’ll bet you tonight she’s in a club somewhere.
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| With a passion for uptown fashion and ballroom lights,
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| And I’ll hold her tonight in a dream that fades away.
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| Mover, I know all of your moves.
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| When you cross the floor, you’re in Argentina.
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| Mover, come talk to me.
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| Mover, take a walk with me.
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| Sit down, show me your heart.
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| She deserted a wealthy family one stormy night,
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| And fled Buenos Aires on an LA flight.
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| She’d deny it, but she can’t hide it.
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| It’s written in her eyes.
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| There’s a ghost in her past and it haunts her night and day.
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| Mover, I feel all of your moves.
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| When you cross the floor, you’re in Argentina.
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| Mover, come talk to me.
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| Mover, take a walk with me.
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| Sit down, show me your heart.
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| In a dream, walls all around you just fall away.
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| All I see is a starry night,
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| And the wind blows up around you and palms start to sway,
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| And you glide across the floor like you’re flying |