lunes, 20 de agosto de 2012

A Whiter Shale Of Pale. Procol Harum


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...
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 as well've 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
And so it was.... (fade)

1 comentario:

Jayja para tí... dijo...

pues llegue hasta ti, por haberte gustado uno de mis poemas,del 2009, me dio alegría encontrar en tu sitio un pedazo de mi...Jayja