Lyrics
In the (Bbmaj7)streets a round here, there was (Gm7)no bod y tough er than me.
I was (Cm7)quick with me fists and (F7sus)fast with me foot work, as (Bbmaj7)you can plain ly (Bb7)see.
But while (Fm7)fight ing was use ful for (Bb7)get ting your way a mong the (Ebmaj7)toughs of the town
where (Ebm6)you could hold sway,
there (Gm)had to be some thing that was (E)bet ter than this.
I was (F7)fif teen years old
and I’d (Abdim7)nev er been kissed.
Well, of (Bbmaj7)course she’d ig nore me; her (Gm7)friends would all sneer at me (Cm7)blood y nose drip ping and me (F7sus)cau li flow’r ear.
For it’s (Cm7)hard to con vince in a (F7sus)ro man tic (F7)pose with a (Bbmaj7)love ly black eye ledge and a bro ken (Bb6)nose, sion of me.
where a (Fm7)girl is at tract ed to (Bb7)skills more re fined than the pu gi list’s (Ebmaj7)art.
ly,
And (Ebm6)so, I in clined
to (Gm)take me self se rious as a was (Edim7)mod ern ro manc er, and I (F7)se cret ly learned now; all the moves (Abdim7)had of a danc (F7)er.
You (Bbmaj7)swing to the left,
you (Gm7)swing to the right, keep your eyes on your part ner, more or (F7sus)less like a fight.
You just (Cm7)fol low the rhy thm and you (F7sus)keep to the beat.
The im (Bbmaj7)por tant thing’s (Bb7)nev er to (Bb6)look at your (Bb)feet.
Then a (Fm7)mir a cle hap pens; your your (Bb7)mind’s in a trance, though the (Ebmaj7)strat e gy’s sub tle: re (Ebm6)treat and ad vance.
It’s (Bbmaj7)all a bout (Gm7)at ti tude, (Cm7)all in your (F7)stance, at (Dm7)ten tion to (Gm7)de tail, leav ing (Cm7)noth ing to (F7)chance; which ex (Dm7)plains how the (Gm7)pu gi list (Cm7)fi nal ly (F7)learned how to (Bbmaj7)dance.
Well, I’d on the (Bbmaj7)night that the pu gi (Gm7)list (Cm7)fi nal ly (F7sus)learned how (F7)to (Bmaj7)dance.
It’s a (B)three min ute round and you’re (G#m7)back in your cor ner.
You’re (C#m7)lick ing your wounds just like (F#7sus)Lit tle Jack Horn er.
Don’t (C#m7)let your guard down; try a (F#7sus)jab with your right, or you’re (Bmaj7)los ing on points by the (B6)end of the night.
Then a (F#m7)mir a cle hap pens
and ev ’ry one’s (B7)scream ing.
You’re (Emaj7)pinch ing your self just in (Em6)case you’re still dream ing.
You’ve (G#m)tak en th’in i tia (G)tive, you’ve (F)tak en your chance.
It’s the (B)night when this (G#m7)pu gi list (C#m7)fi nal ly learned how to (F)dance.
In a (D#m7)bout where the (G#m7)strat e gist’s (C#m7)bridg es were burned, where it (D#m7)seemed that his (G#m7)for tune had (C#m7)sud den ly turned, ’twas the (D#m7)night that this (G#m7)scrap per was (C#m7)sud den ly dap per.
This (F)poor fel low’s (Em)heart was still (B)going like the (Ddim7)clap pers the (C#m7)night that the pu gi list fi nal ly (F#7sus)learned how (F#7)to (Bmaj7)dance.
The Night The Pugilist Learned How To Dance by Sting
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Easy piano arrangement in the key of Eb at 160 BPM. Difficulty: medium. Color-coded notes — no sheet-reading skill required.