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Marianne Faithfull
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The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan
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Letra actual de la canción
The morning sun touched lightly<br />on the eyes of Lucy Jordan<br />In a white suburban bedroom<br />in a white suburban town<br />As she lay there 'neath the covers<br />dreaming of a thousand lovers<br />Till the world turned to orange<br />and the room went spinning round.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />She realised she'd never ride through Paris<br />in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.<br />So she let the phone keep ringing<br />and she sat there softly singing<br />Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised<br />in her daddy's easy chair.<br /><br />Her husband,<br />he's off to work and the kids are off to school,<br />And there are, oh,<br />so many ways for her to spend the day.<br />She could clean the house for hours<br />or rearrange the flowers<br />Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />She realised she'd never ride through Paris<br />in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.<br />So she let the phone keep ringing<br />and she sat there softly singing<br />Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised<br />in her daddy's easy chair.<br /><br />The evening sun touched gently<br />on the eyes of Lucy Jordan<br />On the roof top where she climbed<br />when all the laughter grew too loud<br />And she bowed and curtsied<br />to the man who reached and offered her his hand,<br />And he led her down to the long white car<br />that waited past the crowd.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />she knew she'd found forever<br />As she rode along through Paris<br />with the warm wind in her hair...
Letra nueva de la canción
The morning sun touched lightly<br />on the eyes of Lucy Jordan<br />In a white suburban bedroom<br />in a white suburban town<br />As she lay there 'neath the covers<br />dreaming of a thousand lovers<br />Till the world turned to orange<br />and the room went spinning round.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />She realised she'd never ride through Paris<br />in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.<br />So she let the phone keep ringing<br />and she sat there softly singing<br />Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised<br />in her daddy's easy chair.<br /><br />Her husband,<br />he's off to work and the kids are off to school,<br />And there are, oh,<br />so many ways for her to spend the day.<br />She could clean the house for hours<br />or rearrange the flowers<br />Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />She realised she'd never ride through Paris<br />in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.<br />So she let the phone keep ringing<br />and she sat there softly singing<br />Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised<br />in her daddy's easy chair.<br /><br />The evening sun touched gently<br />on the eyes of Lucy Jordan<br />On the roof top where she climbed<br />when all the laughter grew too loud<br />And she bowed and curtsied<br />to the man who reached and offered her his hand,<br />And he led her down to the long white car<br />that waited past the crowd.<br /><br />At the age of thirty-seven<br />she knew she'd found forever<br />As she rode along through Paris<br />with the warm wind in her hair...
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