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.
