Sarah Brightman. A Whiter Shade Of Pale. Zeneszám

We skipped the light Fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross 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 I would not let her be
One of the sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might just as well've 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