Karaoké A Whiter Shade of Pale Procol Harum

We skipped a 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

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

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