The mornin' sun touched lightly

On the eyes of Lucy Jordan

In her white suburban bedroom,

In a white suburban town

As she lay there 'neath the covers,

Dreaming of a thousand lovers

'Til the world turned to orange

And the room went spinnin' round

At the age of 37,

She realised she'd never ride through Paris

In a sports car,

With the warm wind in her hair

And she let the phone keep ringin' as

She sat there softly singin'

Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised

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 her day

She could clean the house for hours,

Or rearrange the flowers

Or run naked down the shady

Street screaming all the way

At the age of 37,

She realised she'd never ride through Paris

In a sports car,

With the warm wind in her hair

And she let that phone keep ringin'

As she sat there softly singin'

Pretty nursery rhymes

She'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair

The evening sun touched gently

On the eyes of Lucy Jordan

On the rooftop where she'd climbed

When all the laughter grew too loud

And she bowed and curtseyed to the man,

Who reached and offered her his hand

And 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 they rode along through Paris

With the warm wind in her hair

Ooooohhh yes with the wind in her hair oooooohhhh......