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The savages dance naked on the beach
Around an iron cauldron, they play the zouaves
They burn a beautiful piece
His own juice polishing his back
Their song makes their hot blood
A dance of ecstasy and rum galore
We gogo with a Gaugin son
He has face and he has smooth skin
Tonight no is not a sad tropic
But a slightly homoerotic painting
He dances and goes wild like crazy
This pretty Gondu girl who we call Passepartout
Are you okay, Mr. Savage?< br/>Love is a mirage, with a beautiful face
Always around
And which wreaks havoc
It's the heart in a storm
Hey, say , are you okay, mister savage?
They're killing women even when they're starving
It's a fire in the buttocks for these hot bunnies
Greys and grays in the boiling waters put everyone on fire in heat
And all night long there is rowdiness in the huts
The flash of bongos and the rain of drums
An iron cauldron to make love in