E5 E5 The morning sun touched gently on A5 E5 the eyes of Lucy Jordan in a white suburban bedroom B5 B5 in a white suburban town. E5 E5 As she lay there 'neath the covers A5 E5 dreaming of a thousand lovers B5 B5 till the world turned to orange E5 E5 and the room went spinning round. A5 At the age of thirty-seven E5 she realized she'd never ride through Paris in a sports car B5 with the worm wind in her hair. E5 E5 So she let the phone keep ringing A5 E5 as she sat there softly singing B5 the nursery rhymes she'd memorize A5 E5 in her daddy's easy chair. E5 Her husband is off to work A5 E5 and the kids are off to school and there were oh so many ways B5 B5 for her to spend a day. E5 E5 She could clean the house for hours A5 E5 or re-arrange the flowers B5 or make it through the shady stream E5 screaming all the way. A5 At the age of thirty-seven E5 she realized she'd never ride through Paris in a sports car B5 with the worm wind in her hair. E5 E5 So she let the phone keep ringing A5 E5 as she sat there softly singing B5 the nursery rhymes she'd memorize A5 E5 in her daddy's easy chair. E5 The evening sun touched gently on A5 E5 the eyes of Lucy Jordan on the roof top where she climbed B5 B5 when all the laughter grew too loud. E5 E5 And she bowed and cursed to the man A5 E5 who reached out ... off to her his hands B5 and led her down to a long white car E5 E5 that waited, past the crowd. A5 At the age of thirty-seven E5 she knew that she'd found heaven as she rode along through Paris B5 with the worm wind in her hair.