If you say that I sing out of tune, my love
I want you to know that this causes me great pain
Only the privileged have ears as good as yours
I only possess what God gave me
If you insist in classifying
My behavior as antimusical
I myself, lying, should argue
That this is bossa nova, that this is very natural
What you don't know, nor even suspect
Is that those that are out of tune also have a heart
I photographed you with my Rolleiflex
It exposed your enormous ingratitude
Only you will not be able to speak like this of my love
This is better than you are able to find
You with your music forgot the main thing
Is that in the chest of those out of tune
Deep within the chest beating quietly
That in the chest of those out of tune
A heart also beats
