What good is sitting alone
In you [bad word] hear the music play.
Life is a Cabaret, old [bad word] to the Cabaret.
Put down the knitting,
The book and the broom.
Time for a holiday.
Life is a Cabaret, old [bad word] to the [bad word] taste the [bad word] hear the [bad word] blow a horn,
Start celebrating;
Right this way,
Your table's waiting.

No use permitting
Some prophet of doom
To wipe every smile away.
Life is a Cabaret, old [bad word] to the Cabaret!

I used to have a girlfriend
Known as Elsie,
With whom I shared
Four sordid rooms in Chelsea
She wasn't waht you'd call
blushing flower...
As a matter of fact
She rented by the hour.

The day she died the neighbors
Came to snicker:
'Well, that's [bad word] 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 alone
In you [bad word] hear the music play.
Life is a Cabaret, old [bad word] to the Cabaret.

Put down the knitting,
The book and the broom.
Time for a holiday.
Life is a Cabaret, old [bad word] to the Cabaret.

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
Isn't that a long a stay.
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,
Only a Cabarert, old chum
And I love a Cabaret.