I won't dance. Don't ask me.
I won't dance. Don't ask me.
I won't dance, Madame, with you.
My heart won't let my feet do things they should do.

You know what? You're lovely.

So what? I'm lovely...

But oh, what you do to me.
I'm like an ocean wave that's bumped on the shore.
I feel so absolutely stumped on the floor.

Ah, but when you dance you're charming and you're gentle.
Especially when you do The Continental.

But this feeling isn't purely mental.
For heaven rest us
I'm not asbestos.
And that's why...

I won't dance. Why should I?
I won't dance. How could I?
I won't dance, merci beaucoup.

I know that music leads the way to romance.
And if I hold you in my arms... I won't dance.