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“A Whiter Shade of Pale” is a song
by the English rock band Procol Harum.
Without much promotion, it reached #5
on the US Billboard Hot 100. As one
of the anthems of the 1967 Summer of
Love, it is one of the most commercially
successful singles, having sold more
than 10M copies worldwide.
Its Bach-derived instrumental
melody, soulful vocals, and unusual
lyrics were composed by Gary Brooker
Matthew Fisher, and Keith Reid.
The music in this Joe Cocker HD
remastered version is at
youtube.com/watch?v=ESszzDl2k6s
We skipped the light fandango;
turned cartwheels 'cross the floor.
I was feeling kinda seasick.
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'.
As I wandered through my playing
cards and wouldn't 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
her face, at first just ghostly,
turned a whiter shade of pale.
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 here are additional lyrics:
She said, 'I’m home on shore leave,'
though in truth we were at sea.
So, I took her by the looking glass
and forced her to agree
saying, 'You must be the mermaid
who took Neptune for a ride.'
But she smiled at me so sadly
that my anger straightway died.
If music be the food of love*
then laughter is its queen
and likewise if behind is in front
then dirt in truth is clean.
My mouth by then like cardboard
seemed to slip straight through
my head.
So, we crash-dived straightway
quickly and attacked the ocean bed.

* This line is after Act I Scene I
of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night
If music be the food of love,
play on, give me excess of it,
surfeit my senses!
More than Aristotle’s De Anima Five.
Vision! Splash life’s canvas with beauty
and the 256 x 256 x 256 fire,
with 256 cubed, 16,777,216 colors.
Audition! Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé,
Mozart and Beethoven, Oscar Peterson,
Brubeck, and Thelonious Monk.
Olfaction! Every perfumed flower,
fresh baked bread, the air after it’s rained
Jasmine, Sandalwood and Eucalyptus.
Gustation! Every salty and sour,
every bitter and sweet.
Tactile! Cheek to cheek with a baby,
the light touch of early morning sun,
the ballet body’s joint and muscle sense
at the barre, the vibrations of the base-
bottom as a musical’s overture begins.
Thermoception of heat and cold!
Equilibrioception of balance!
Proprioception of body awareness!
Chemical senses, hormonal senses
pheromones, hunger and thirst!
Feeling senses, sensitivity to gravity,
air and wind pressure, and motion
that breathes upon a bank of violets!
Receiveth all, all the sea of delights,
all shapes fancy and high fantastical.
And those delights, like nymphs
and fairies, like a cloistress,
walk veiled in a fine frame,
in gay remembrance up to the
sovereign throne of sweet
perfections when canopied with bowers.

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