A Whither Shade of Pale

We skipped the last fandango
When cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
The crowd called out for more

And the room was humming harder
And the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
And the waiter brought a tray

And so it was that later
That the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
And turned a whiter shade of pale



Credits
Writer(s): Keith Reid, Gary Brooker
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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