The mornin' sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In her white suburban bedroom, in her white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreamin' of a thousand lovers
'Til the world turned to orange and the room went spinnin' 'round.
At the age of 37 she realized she'd never ride through Paris
In a sports-car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringin' and she sat there softly singin'
Little nurs'ry rhymes she'd memorized in her daddy's easy chair.
Her husband he was off to work and the kids were off to school
And there were oh so many ways for her to spend the day
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screamin' all the way.
At the age of 37 she realized she'd never ride
Through Paris in a sports-car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringin' as she sat there softly singin'
Pretty nurs'ry rhymes she'd memorized in her daddy's easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtseyed to the man
Who reached and offered her his hand
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of 37 she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair