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