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

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 have just as well’ve been closed

*

Procol Harum, Procol Harum (U.S. release) (1967)