August
Monday 9 February 2009 photo 1/1
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Nu är det dags för nästa klassiker. Den här låten är förövrigt min themesong eftersom min far har berättat att det var denna låt som jag blev gjord till. Den är underbar..! Leta nu fram din fars gamla Procul Harum skivor o lägg på denna. Orgeln är sannerligen som en livmoder.
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
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
Comment the photo
*eexcellent a la monty burns*
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