EThe morning sun touched gently on E7 the eAyes of Lucy JoErdan
in a white suburban bedroom
in a whBite suburban town. B7
As she lEay there 'neath the covers E7 dreaming Aof a thousand loEvers
till the woBrld turned to orange B7 and the room went spinning roEund. E7
At the aAge of thirty-seven
she reaElized she'd never ride
through Paris in a sports car
with the warm wind in her hBair.
So she lEet the phone keep ringing E7 as she sAat there softly sinEging
the nurBsery rhymes she'd memorize
in her daAddy's easy chEair.
Her husband is off to work E7 and the kAids are off to scEhool
and there were oh so many ways
for hBer to spend a day. B7
She could clEean the house for hours E7 or Arearrange the floEwers
or mBake it through the shady stream
screaming all the wEay.
At the aAge of thirty-seven
she reaElized she'd never ride
through Paris in a sports car
with the warm wind in her hBair.
So she lEet the phone keep ringing E7 as she sAat there softly sinEging
the nurBsery rhymes she'd memorize
in her daAddy's easy chEair.
The evening sun touched gently on E7 the eAyes of Lucy JoErdan
on the roof top where she climbed
when all the laughter grew too Bloud. B7
And she boEwed and curtseyed to the man E7 who reaAched out and offerd her E his hands
and Bled her down to a long white car
that waited, past the crEowd. E7
At the aAge of thirty-seven
she kEnew that she'd found heaven
as she rode along through Paris
with the warm wind in her hBair
Marianne Faithfull:
Birdy:
Doors:
