| The night is getting on |
| The band is getting slow |
| The crowd is almost gone |
| But here we are still dancing |
| Nothing to do, but waltz |
| Our feet can barely move |
| My legs are yelling «Whoa» |
| But we’re in such a groove |
| And love is still advancing |
| Nothing to do, but waltz |
| You can’t suggest that we could go on jitterbugging |
| No bugging |
| We’ve nothing left for moves more strenuous than hugging |
| Just hugging |
| But we don’t need much room to gently cut-a-rug in, we two |
| We’re dead on our feet |
| And the sauce is repeatin' |
| But what can you do? |
| I tried another juice |
| And get from head to toe |
| My body’s feeling loose |
| And warm and kind of supple |
| Nothing to do, but waltz |
| My man would slip away |
| My arms just won’t let go |
| I think I’d like to stay, |
| Till we’re the only couple |
| Nothing to do, but waltz |
| You never know how far this sort of thing can get you |
| One never knows, one never, never knows |
| We’re not as tired as we would like to think, I bet you |
| You stay up half the night with me, if I would let you |
| Yes |
| So come, let the waltz play again |