Procol Harum A Whiter Shade Of Pale 1967

We skipped the light fandango

Turned cartwheels cross the floor

I was feeling kind of seasick

The crowd called out for more

The room was humming harder

As the ceiling flew away

When we called out for another drink

But the waiter brought a tray

And so it was 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 I would not let her be, oh, oh yeah

One of sixteen vestal virgins

Who were leaving for the coast

And oh, and my eyes were open

They might just as well have been closed

And so it was that later, oh

As the miller told his tale

That her face at first just ghostly

Turned a whiter shade of pale, oh yeah

Oh, and so it was, yeah, oh later

The miller told his tale

Yeah her face was kinda ghostly

Turned a whiter shade of pale, oh yeah