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Cabaret

What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
come to the cabaret.
Put down the knitting, the book, and the broom.
Time for a holiday.
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
come to the cabaret.
Come taste the wine,
come hear the band,
come blow your horn,
start celebrating,
right this way,
your table`s waiting.
No use permitting
some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
so come to the cabaret!
I used to have this girlfriend known as Elsie,
with whom I shared four sorbid rooms in Chelsea.
She wasn`t what you`d call
a blushing flower.
As a matter of fact
she rented by the hour.
The day she died the neighbours came to snicker
"Well, that`s what comes from
too much pills and liquor."
But when I saw her laid out like a queen,
she was the happiest... corpse...
I`d ever seen
I think of Elsie to this very day
I remember how she`d turned to me and say:
"What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
come to the cabaret.
And as for me,
as for me
I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,
when I go, I`m going like Elsie
Start by admitting from cradle to tomb
isn`t that long a stay
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
it`s only a cabaret, old chum,
And I love the cabaret.