A Whiter Shade Of Pale

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
He 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've been closed