She put on her music and a sweet Tango began to play.
I had a premonition that this was the day when the blood, rose and dagger will pass my way.

The wide down-turned brim of her black silk hat
...cast a shadow over her face ...her luring eyes ...hypnotic ...lurking like a cat.

Bright red over-painted tempestuous lips belied the gentility of her silent elegant frame.
I knew my heart was facing danger but I was falling in love all the same.

Was she unaware of the three tangueros and me starring? ...No one knows
...as she lifted her dress and straightened the seam in her jet-black fishnet hose.

My heart jumped, blood rushed to my head and I could not breathe.
I thought certainly I should run for my life but I had no will and could not leave.

As she raised her head we saw the cold blue fire in her eyes.
Then we knew that only one compadrito would ever claim this prize.

A fight to the death to quench our lust and passion ...NO LESS!
In the end she would see which one of us was best.

May the victor dance in eternal bliss
...perchance a Tango and an immortalizing kiss.

Cold steel knives flashing fear and sweat
A thrust a parry a whip a kick a cut Oh God I felt my bloodlett'.

...but soon I stood alone and saw the other tangueros were no more.
...my outstretched hand for the lady to dance as she hurried across the floor.

"Don't cry for me," I said as I saw the compassion in her face.
"If this is to be my last Tango, I couldn't think of a better place."

The Lady's eyes welled with tears as the last tanguero ceased to dance ...slipped her embrace and died at her feet.
"How could I have known that my Tango would have such a tragic and deadly beat?"

She plucked a rose from her hair and dropped the red petals upon each man.
...then disappeared into the night and was never heard from or seen again.

The old milongueros say that before he died he danced the greatest Tango of all time.
...that this dance of love was born of pain, frustration and sorrow is humanity's greatest crime.

Since that day the story has been told and passed on for many years
The compadritos gave their lives for Tango and painted the floor with their blood, sweat and tears.

So if ever a man should be tempted to tango at the Café de Sal
I pray he dare not enter if he sees La Femme Fatale.