Argentinian Tango

Argentinian Tango The night had been crying of icy tears on the window glass I kissed the glass a thousand guitars played in Buenos Aires the night Eva Peron died. From ignominy to a famous mistress, it takes a high-quality tart. Sentimental fools had lost an icon, a dream, a fairytale princess who would give the shirtless hope? She screwed her way to the top and said, all right, Jack! A grand mausoleum where we can walk around and spin into a golden calf. In time, sanctified, and padres will tell of her of greatness the pope will give her sainthood and include her in his prayers.