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We skipped the light Fandango |
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And turned cartwheels across the floor |
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I was feeling kind of seasick |
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But the crowd called out for more |
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The room was humming harder |
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As the ceiling flew away |
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When we called out for another drink |
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The waiter brought a tray |
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And so it was that later |
|
As the miller told his tale |
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That her face at first just ghostly |
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Turned a whiter shade of pale |
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She said "There is no reason... |
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And the truth is plain to see" |
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But I wandered through my playing cards |
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And would not let her be |
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One of sixteen vestal virgins |
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Who were leaving for the coast |
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And although my eyes were open |
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They might just as well have been closed |
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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 |