What good is sitting alone in your roomCome to hear the music playLife is a cabaret, old chapCome to the cabaretPut down the knitting, the book and the broomIt's time for a holidayOh, life is a cabaret, old chapCome to the cabaretCome taste the bar, come hear the bandCome blow that horn and start celebratingRight this way, your table's waitingNo use permittingSome prophet of doomTo wipe every smile awayLife is a cabaret, old chapCome to the cabaretI used to have this girlfriendKnown as ElsieWith whom I shared four sordid rooms in ChelseaShe wasn't what you'd callA blushing flowerAs a matter of fact, she vented by the hourThe day she died, the neighbors came to snick upWell, that's what comes from too much pills and liquorBut when I saw herLaid out like a queenShe was the happiest corpse I'd ever seenI think of Elsie, to this very dayI remember how she'd turn to me and sayAlors, what good is sitting all alone in your room?Come hear the musicI think of Elsie to this very dayMusic playOh life is aCavalryShopCome toI'm notOhOh