Ca sĩ: Procol Harum Album: New York Stories OST

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We skipped the light fandango
And turned cartwheels cross the floor
I was feeling kind of sea-sick
But the crowed 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 have well 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