You talk like Marlene Dietrich And you dance like Zizi Jeanmaire Your are all made by Balmain And there’s diamonds and pearls in your , yes they are.
You live in a fancy apartment Off the Boulevard St. Michel Where you keep your Rolling Stones And a friend of Sacha Distel, yes you do.
Chorus: But where do you go to my lovely When you're alone in your bed Tell me the that surround you I want to look inside your head, yes I do.
I've seen all your qualifications You got from the Sorbonne And the you stole from Picasso Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does.
When you go on your summer vacation You go to Juan-les-Pins With a carefully designed topless swimsuit You get an even suntan, on your and on your .
And when the falls you're found in St. Moritz With the others of the jet set And you sip your Napoleon Brandy But you never get your wet, no you don't.
Chorus
Your name is heard in high places You know the Aga Khan He sent you a racehorse for Christmas And you keep it just for fun, for a ha! ha! ha!
They say that when you get married It'll be to a millionaire But they don't realize where you came from And I wonder if they really care, or give a damn
I remember the back streets of Naples Two children begging in Both touched with a burning ambition To shake off their lowly-born tags, they try.
So look into my face Marie-Claire And remember just who you are Then go and forget me forever But I know you still bear the , deep inside, yes you do.
I know where you go to my lovely When you're alone in your bed I know the that surround you Because I can look inside your head.
