PROCOL HARUM


A Whiter Shade Of Pale

(compilation)

(1972)



All tracks on this CD are in MONO as originally released in 1967



1. A Whiter Shade Of Pale 4'05
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
2. Conquistador 2'39
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
3. She Wandered Through The Garden Fence 3'25
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
4. Something Following Me 3'39
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
5. Mabel 1'53
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
6. Cerdes (Outside The Gates Of) 5'02
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
7. A Christmas Camel 4'49
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
8. Kaleidoscope 2'55
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
9. Salad Days (Are Here Again) 3'38
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
10. Good Captain Clack 1'31
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
11. Repent Walpurgis 5'03
(Matthew Fisher)

Bonus Tracks

12. Lime Street Blues 2'59
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
13. Homburg 3'56
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
14. Monsieur R. Monde 2'23
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)
15. Seem To Be The Blues All The Time 2'45
(Gary Brooker / Keith Reid)

Total Time: 50:42


  • Robin Trower - Guitar
  • Gary Brooker - Harmonica, Piano, Keyboards, Vocals, Voices
  • Matthew Fisher - Hammond Organ
  • David Knights - Bass Guitar
  • B.J. Wilson - Percussion

    Denny Cordell - Producer




    1. A Whiter Shade Of Pale

      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, at 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 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 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
    (on Original Single Version)

    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

    2. Conquistador

      Conquistador your stallion stands
      in need of company
      and like some angel's haloed brow
      you reek of purity
      I see your armour-plated breast
      has long since lost its sheen
      and in your death mask face
      there are no signs which can be seen
      And though I hoped for something

      to find I could see no maze to unwind
      Conquistador a vulture sits
      upon your silver shield
      and in your rusty scabbard now
      the sand has taken seed
      and though your jewel-encrusted blade
      has not been plundered still
      the sea has washed across your face
      and taken of its fill
      And though I hoped for something

      to find I could see no maze to unwind
      Conquistador there is no time
      I must pay my respect
      and though I came to jeer at you
      I leave now with regret
      and as the gloom begins to fall
      I see there is no, only all
      and though you came with sword held high
      you did not conquer, only die
      And though I hoped for something

      to find I could see no maze to unwind

    3. She Wandered Through The Garden Fence

      She wandered through the garden fence
      and said, 'I've brought at great expense
      a potion guaranteed to bring
      relief from all your suffering.'
      And though I said, 'You don't exist,'
      she grasped me firmly by the wrist
      and threw me down upon my back
      and strapped me to her torture rack
      And, without further argument
      I found my mind was also bent
      upon a course so devious
      it only made my torment worse
      She said, 'I see you cannot speak
      is it your voice that is too weak?
      Is it your tongue that is to blame?
      Maybe you cannot speak for shame.
      Or has your brain been idle too,
      and now it will not think for you?'
      I hastened to make my reply
      but found that I could only lie
      And like a fool I believed myself
      and thought I was somebody else
      But she could see what I was then
      and left me on my own again

    4. Something Following Me

      While standing at the junction on 42nd Street
      I idly kick a pebble lying near my feet
      I hear a weird noise, take a look up and down
      The cause of the commotion is right there on the ground
      Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home
      but there's no doubt about it, it's my own tombstone
      I went into a shop, and bought a loaf of bread
      I sank my teeth into it, thought I'd bust my head
      I dashed to the dentist, said, 'I've got an awful pain!'
      The man looks in my mouth and screams, 'This boy is insane!'
      Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home
      but there's a lump in my mouth of my own tombstone
      I went to see a movie, got the only empty seat
      I tried to stretch out in it, something blocking my feet
      Finally the lights came up, and I could clearly see
      a slab of engraved marble, just staring up at me
      Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home
      but there's no doubt I'm sitting on my own tombstone

    5. Mabel

      Don't eat green meat it ain't good for you
      you know it killed your brother, killed your sister too
      even fresh fried chicken on new-mown sand
      can't beat red beans eaten outa your hand
      7Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able
      Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table
      Don't slice no onions, don't peel no grape
      dream about banana slice nor sniff around short cake
      and if on a winter's day you find your sundial's wrong
      you'll know the weather is what's brought it on
      Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able
      Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table
      Put the peas in the pot, put the pot on the hot
      In the cellar lies my wife, in my wife there's a knife
      so tote that hammer, lift that pick
      and banish inhibition with a pogo stick
      Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able
      Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table

    6. Cerdes (Outside The Gate Of)

      Outside the gates of Cerdes sits the two-pronged unicorn
      who plays at relaxation time a rhinestone flugelhorn
      whilst mermaids lace carnations into wreaths for ailing whales
      and Neptune dances hornpipes while Salome sheds her veils
      Phallus Phil tries peddling his pewter painted pot
      but Sousa Sam can only hear the screams of Peep the sot
      who only sips his creme de menthe from terra cotta cups
      and exhales menthol scented breath whilst spewing verbiage up
      Down technical blind alleys live the wraiths of former dreams
      And Greeps who often crossed them are no longer what they seem
      And even Christian Scientists can but display marble plaques
      Which only retell legends whilst my eyes reach out for facts
      Yeah, my eyes reach out for facts

    7. A Christmas Camel

      My amazon six-triggered bride
      now searching for a place to hide
      still sees the truth quite easily
      but shrouds all else in mystery
      while madmen in top hats and tails
      impale themselves on six-inch nails
      and some Arabian also-ran
      impersonates a watering can
      Some Santa Claus-like face of note
      entreats my ears to set afloat
      my feeble sick and weary brain
      and I am overcome with shame
      and hide inside my overcoat
      and hurriedly begin to quote
      while some Arabian sheikh most grand
      impersonates a hot-dog stand
      The Red Cross ambulance outside
      can only mean that I must hide
      'til dusk and finally the night
      when I will make a hasty flight
      across the sea and far away
      to where the weary exiles stay
      and some Arabian oil-well
      impersonates a padded cell

    8. Kaleidoscope

      Jostle, hassle, elbow bustle
      in a swirling rainbow tussle
      Caught and frozen, broken sheen
      now unites for one brief scene
      Lonely in the dark I grope
      the key's in my kaleidoscope
      Confused faces change their places
      take up stances, exchange glances
      Lost in multicoloured hues
      there is no whole which I can choose
      Lonely in the dark I grope
      the key's in my kaleidoscope
      In one face, one moment's fusion
      realize the new illusion
      Clutching fingers break the puzzle
      jostle, hassle, elbow bustle
      Still out in the dark I grope
      the key's in my kaleidoscope

    9. Salad Days (Are Here Again)

      You come to me at midnight and say, 'It's dark in here.'
      You know you robbed me of my sight, and light is what I fear
      I tell you that I can not see but you persist in showing me
      those bangles that I paid for long ago
      And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
      and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
      Your skin crawls up an octave, your teeth have lost their gleam
      The peaches snuggle closer down into the clotted cream
      and for some unknown reason my watch begins to chime
      and though I beg and plead with you, you tell me it's not time
      And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
      and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
      The sun seeps through the window to see if we're still dead
      to try to throw some light upon the gloom around our bed
      At quarter past the doorbell rings, the water faucet drips and sings
      and still my reason will not rhyme, and still you tell me it's not time
      And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
      and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
      You really know that it's not so

    10. Good Captain Clack

      Still scowling black
      good Captain Clack
      must eat his humble pie
      His bed is made
      the colours fade
      his eyes once wet are dry
      The naked muse
      who sits and chews
      tobacco off a tree
      removes his shoes
      gives way to booze
      and searches endlessly
      See the naked jumberlack
      sip his aphrodisiac
      Cotton-picking farmers three
      Though I lost my weather vane
      and of sense I have one grain
      I'm content sipping lemon tea

    11. Repent Walpurgis

      ( instrumental )

    13. Homburg

      Your multilingual business friend
      has packed her bags and fled
      Leaving only ash-filled ashtrays
      and the lipsticked unmade bed
      The mirror on reflection
      has climbed back upon the wall
      for the floor she found descended
      and the ceiling was too tall
      Your trouser cuffs are dirty
      and your shoes are laced up wrong
      you'd better take off your homburg
      'cos your overcoat is too long
      The town clock in the market square
      stands waiting for the hour
      when its hands they both turn backwards
      and on meeting will devour
      both themselves and also any fool
      who dares to tell the time
      And the sun and moon will shatter
      and the signposts cease to sign

    14. Monsieur R.Monde

      The bell on my door rang this morning
      From the kitchen I called "Who's that there?"
      Through the letter box came a grappling hook
      Which grappled me right out of my chair!
      Stretched out on the floor I lay helpless
      Of my limbs I had lost all command
      When into my ear instilling fear
      Said a voice "I am Monsieur R. Monde"
      "Monsieur R. Monde you are not!
      That's an incredible thing to say
      For I personally attended his funeral
      which was twelve months to this very day!"
      A rat flew down from the ceiling
      Alighted upon my right ear
      said "If Monsieur R. Monde is safe under the sod
      Then why are you shaking with fear!"
      "My name is not Scrooge" I said faintly
      "and from ghosts I have nothing to fear!
      But if you are R. Monde returned from the dead
      Then what are you wanting here?"
      From nowhere I heard a mad cackle
      From nowhere a voice to me cried
      "Stop calling me Monsieur R. Monde you fool!
      My name's Jekyll and you're Mr. Hyde!"