(brooker/reid) 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 outfor 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 You said there is no reason And the truth is plain to see But I wander through my playing cards And would not let it be I'm one of sixteen vestal virgins Who are leaving for the coast And although my eyes were open They might just as well been closed (*repeat) A whiter shade of pale Turned a whiter shade of pale A whiter shade of pale