Procol Harum A Whiter Shade Of Pale 1967

I do not own the rights to this song 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 And 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 But I wandered through my pla