Saturday, April 26, 2008

To absent friends, and old enemies, the best last-call song on a Saturday night!



Procol Harum - A whiter shade of pale 1967

4 comments:

moni said...

Awww Jim, this is lovely, thanks.

:P fuzzbox said...

It's a good one. Around here they mostly play Happy Trails.

Jim said...

When I was in high school, and you still needed a license to hunt dinosaurs, the senior boys traditionally sang :Happy Trials" at the end of the year at the end of every class. I have no idea why, or if they still do.

Jim said...

Moni -- it's the greatest slow-dance ever, ask Floyd if he'd mind!

We skipped a 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
That 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 have been closed.

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