What good is sitting alone in your room?
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
Put down the knitting, the book, and the broom.
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
Some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
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
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 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?
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,
When I go, I'm going like Elsie
Start by admitting from cradle to tomb
Life is a cabaret, old chum,
It's only a cabaret, old chum,