Berlin's Cheek to Cheek

 

Seven—

It's been seven—

Seven awesome and extraordinary years

With a pianist who hasn't any peers.

Lift your glasses and convert your "Cheers!" to cheers!

 

Seven—

Lucky seven—

Seven seasons filled with gaiety and tears,

Which we fondly keep among our souvenirs.

Lift your glasses and distil your "Cheers!" to cheers!

 

Let the riffraff sit through Phantom

And be hit by chandeliers;

As for us, we'll keep "Perfesser" Scott

Another seven years.

 

Some are satisfied with K-Fed—

Even worse, with Britney Spears;

But for us, we'll take "Perfesser" Scott

Another seven years.

 

—Scott, m'boy!

You play one hell of a song!

—The spell of a song

That swept us along

For

 

Seven

(Count 'em, seven)—

Seven cycles of the Music of the Spheres.

Thank the Lord, he chose the best of all careers!

Lift your glasses and transmute your "Cheers!" to cheers!