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. It's time for a holiday. Life is a Cabaret, old chum Come to the Cabaret. Come taste the wine, come hear the band. Come blow a horn, start celebrating; Right this way, your table's waiting. What good's 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 sordid 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 turn to me and say: "What good is sitting all alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a Cabaret, old chum, Come to the Cabaret. " And as for me, and 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 It isn't that long a stay. Life is a Cabaret, old chum, It's only a Cabaret, old chum And I love a Cabaret!