A haunting, or perhaps melancholic, melody with strange lyrics is one of my alltime favorites.  Coincidently, it from the Brits who I number among the best in the movie business.  Surely, a few of you remember Alfred Hitchcock who gave us some great suspense thrillers.

The song is "A Whiter Shade of Pale" by Brooker/Reid released in 1967.  The lyrics below are those in a version sung by Sarah Brightman on her LaLuna album.

"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, af 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 throught 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

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"

I still have the three ticket stubs from February 19, 2004 for "An Evening With Sarah Brightman" which my daughters, Michelle and Rose, treated an aging father to one of his favorites at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee.  The ticket stubs and a poster of Sarah Brightmen still adorn a wall in my pantry.  A strange place, you may say, but three times a day I recall the happy time of "A Whiter Shade of Pale."