We skipped the light Fandango
|
And turned cartwheels across the floor
|
I was feeling kind of seasick
|
But the crowd called out for more
|
The room was humming harder
|
As the ceiling flew away
|
When we called out for another drink
|
The waiter brought a tray
|
|
And so it was that later
|
As the miller told his tale
|
That her face at first just ghostly
|
Turned a whiter shade of pale
|
|
She said "There is no reason...
|
And the truth is plain to see"
|
But I wandered through my playing cards
|
And would not let her be
|
One of sixteen vestal virgins
|
Who were leaving for the coast
|
And although my eyes were open
|
They might just as well have been closed
|
|
And so it was that later
|
As the miller told his tale
|
That her face at first just ghostly
|
Turned a whiter shade of pale
|
|
-----------------
|
A Whiter Shade Of Pale
|
| Sarah Brightman |
