(Verse 1) The neon's leaking on the boulevard again, Another chrome-plated evening, another low-down friend. He’s got a paper map of a place I can’t pronounce, Says the currency’s soft, and they don't check the ounce. He orders up a 'Cuba Libre,' extra lime and ice, Says the boat leaves at midnight, better pay the price. I see the shadow on his sleeve, it looks a little frayed, Like a handshake promised and promptly betrayed. (Chorus) It’s the Bahia Shuffle, baby, down the narrow street, Where the deal is only good until the moment that you meet. Another perfect, dark conspiracy in the humid air, And you know you're in too deep, but you just don't care. They got the good stuff moving on a tide that's high and slow, And the man with the ledger’s got a smile like radio. (Verse 2) He talked about a legacy fund, and some kind of trust, Something about a widow and a fortune gathering dust. He says, "She keeps the papers hidden, under the Spanish tile," But the look in his eye just goes on for a mile. The bartender leans in close, wipes the counter with a cloth, Whispers something soft about a recent local loss. I check my watch; it’s a quarter past 'Too Late' now, I figure, This whole scene smells like cheap cologne and bad liqueur. (Instrumental Break) (A sleek, slightly mournful tenor saxophone solo over complex chord changes, followed by a bright, percussive Wurlitzer electric piano riff. The drummer keeps a locked-in, heavily-syncopated groove.) (Verse 3) We drive the coastline in a rental, blue and slightly scraped, Past the villas and the palm trees, a promise half-escaped. He’s got a pre-fab alibi for every little hitch, A story for the border guard, a move for the switch. I asked him 'bout the contact, the one who runs the show, He just smiled that thin-lipped smile and said, "Someone you don't know." Yeah, the diamonds are probably cut-glass, and the passport's definitely fake, But the thrill of the venture is a headache I can take. (Chorus) It’s the Bahia Shuffle, baby, down the narrow street, Where the deal is only good until the moment that you meet. Another perfect, dark conspiracy in the humid air, And you know you're in too deep, but you just don't care. They got the good stuff moving on a tide that's high and slow, And the man with the ledger’s got a smile like radio. (Outro) Smile like radio... yeah... Bahia Shuffle... just turn up the gain... Too late now... it's too late... (Whispered) The currency's soft...