Ginger:
Think of what you're losing
By constantly refusing to dance with me
You'd be the idol of France with me
And yet you stand there
And shake your foolish head dramatically
While I wait here so ecstatically
You just look and say emphatically
Fred:
Not this season, there is a reason.
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 the things they should do
You know what? You're lovely
Ginger:
And so what? I'm lovely.
Fred:
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
Ginger:
When you dance you're charming and you're gentle
Especially when you do the Continental
Fred:
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 beau coup.
I know that music leads the way to romance
And if I hold you in my arms
I won't dance