"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 a girlfriend known as Elsie, With whom I shared a 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 neighbors 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 you 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 a long a stay. Life is a Cabaret, old chum, It's only a Cabaret, old chum And I love a Cabaret.