Ballad Of Lucy Jordan

The morning sun touched gently on The eyes of Lucy Jordan In a white suburban bedroom In a white suburban town And she lay there 'neath the covers Dreaming of a thousand lovers 'Til the world turned to orange And the room went spinning 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 And she let that phone keep ringing As she sat there softly singing Pretty nursery rhymes she had memorized In her Daddy's easy chair Her husband he's off to work And the kids were off to school And there were oh so many ways For her to spend her days 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 realized she had never ride Through Paris in a sports car With the warm wind in her hair And she let the phone keep ringing As she sat there softly singing Pretty nursery rhymes she had memorized In her Daddy's easy chair Now the evening sun touched gently on The eyes of Lucy Jordan On the rooftop where she climbed When all the laughter grew too loud And she bowed and curtsied 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 relized she'd found forever As they rode along through Paris With the warm wind in her hair At the age of 37 With the warm wind in her hair