Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes, each one she passes goes, ah. And she walks, she's like a samba that swings so cool and sways so gently, that when she passes, each one she passes goes, ah. Oh, but he watches her so sadly, how can he tell her he loves her? Yes, he would give his heart gladly, but each time when she walks to the sea, she looks straight ahead, not at him. Oh, but he watches her so sadly, how can he tell her he loves her? Oh, but he watches her so sadly, how can he tell her he loves her? Yes, he would give his heart gladly, but each time when she walks to the sea, she looks straight ahead, not at him. Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes, she smiles, but she doesn't see. She just doesn't see. No, she doesn't see. But she doesn't see.