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What good is sitting alone in your room? |
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Come hear the music play |
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Life is a cabaret, old chum |
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Come to the cabaret |
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Put down the knitting, the book and the broom |
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It's time for a holiday |
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Life is a cabaret, old chum |
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So come to the cabaret |
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Come taste the wine |
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Come hear the band |
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Come blow your horn |
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Start celebrating right this way |
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Your table's waiting |
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What good's permitting some prophet of doom |
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To wipe every smile away |
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Life is a cabaret, old chum |
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So come to the cabaret |
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I used to have this girlfriend known as Elsie |
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With whom I shared four sordid rooms in Chelsea |
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She wasn't what you'd call a blushing flower |
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As a matter of fact she rented by the hour |
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The day she died the neighbors came to snicker |
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"Well, that's what comes from too much pills and liquor" |
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But when I saw her laid out like a Queen |
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She was the happiest corpse, I'd ever seen |
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I think of Elsie to this very day |
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I remember how she'd turn to me and say |
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"What good is sitting all alone in your room? |
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Come hear the music play |
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Life is a cabaret, old chum |
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Come to the cabaret |
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And as for me |
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And as for me |
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I made my mind up, back in Chelsea |
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When I go, I'm going like Elsie |
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Start by admitting from cradle to tomb |
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Isn't that long a stay |
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Life is a cabaret, old chum |
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It's only a cabaret, old chum |
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And I love a cabaret |
