[Verse 1: Buenos Aires Argentine-accented female MC, sharp porteno bite over the stomping kick and bandoneon] Saturday in San Telmo, and the milonga's mine I'm the one who picks the music, che, I'm the one who keeps the time Four tangos, then cortina, thirty seconds of a pop song The floor clears, couples switch, and nobody does it wrong The ronda turns just like a clock, and everybody keeps their lane The old men and the widows, heel to heel, the same again Then Bruno walks in Saturday, a champion, he says With a trophy in a duffel bag and a shirt wide open to his chest Cuts across the ronda like the ronda is a road Elbows in the old men, boludo, like he's carryin' a load [Verse 2: Argentine MC, inverse swell, the band pulls back to a hush and her voice gets louder and harder] So I watched him from the booth for a tanda and a half Saw him dip a girl from Rosario and he did it for a laugh Saw him take a corner from a couple dancin' forty years Saw him kick a chair, viejo, put a dent in Tito's beers So I let the first one finish and I let the second play And on the third, I didn't argue, che, I took the song away Pressed cortina, thirty seconds, and the floor emptied out And there's Bruno in the middle, arms out, lookin' all about [Hook: Argentine MC, full band back, stomping kick and tango piano marcato] When I play the cortina, che, you clear the floor You can dance until I say so, then you don't dance anymore Four songs and a curtain, and I don't need a door 'Cause I'm the one who pulls it, and I've pulled it on men before [Verse 3: Argentine MC, faster, the bandoneon biting back on every line] So he waits out the cortina and he grabs a new partner fast I give 'em eight bars of a tango, then the curtain, and that's that He steps on, I pull it, he steps off, I let it play And the old couples are dancin' circles round him anyway Seven times he tries it, seven times the curtain falls Till the champion's standin' with his duffel by the wall He can't argue with a record, can't shove a song around Can't elbow out a curtain, can't outdance a sound So he picked his trophy up, che, and the whole room watched him go And I played the old men's tanda, loud, and I played it slow [Hook: Argentine MC, the full band, every hit on the marcato] When I play the cortina, che, you clear the floor You can dance until I say so, then you don't dance anymore Four songs and a curtain, and I don't need a door 'Cause I'm the one who pulls it, and I've pulled it on men before [Outro: Argentine MC, over the bandoneon, one last stomp] Four songs and a curtain, che, that's the law in here And I'm the one who says it, viejo, every Saturday of the year [End]
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