[He] 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 me do things they should do. You know what? You're lovely. [She]And so what? I'm lovely. [He] 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. [She]When you dance, you're charming and you're gentle, 'Specially when you do the Continental. [He] 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, So if I hold you in my arms, I won't dance.
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