Procol Harum – A Whiter Shade of Pale

We skipped the light fandango – Turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor – I was feeling kinda seasick – 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 » …