Procol Harum - a whiter shade of pale

We skipped the light fandango

Turned cartwheels cross the floor

I was feeling kinda 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