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Peter Sarstedt / Where do you go to my lovely
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Translation
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You talk like Marlene Dietrich
And you dance like Zizi Jeanmaire
And your clothes are all made by Balmain
And there's diamonds and pearls in your hair, yes there are
And you live in a fancy apartment
Off the Boulevard St. Michel
Oh, where you keep your Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel, oh yes you do
And you go to the embassy parties
Where you talk in Russian and Greek
And the young men who move in your circles
Oh, they hang on every word you speak, yes they do
But where do you go to, my lovely?
Oh, when you're alone in your bed
Oh, won't you tell me the thoughts that surround you?
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
Oh, I've seen all your qualifications
And you got from the Sorbonne
And the painting you stole from Picasso
Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does
And when you go on your summer vacation
You go to Juan-les-Pins
Oh, with your carefully designed topless swimsuit
You get an even suntan on your back, and on your legs
And when the snow falls you're found in St. Moritz
With the others of the jet set
And you sip your Napoleon brandy
And you never get your lips wet, oh no you don't
But where do you go to, my lovely?
Oh, when you're alone in your bed
Oh, won't you tell me the thoughts that surround you?
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
Oh, when you're in between twenty and thirty
And that's a very desirable age
Oh, but your body is firm and inviting
But you live on a glittering stage, do, yes you do
And your name is heard in high places
Oh, you know the Aga Khan
Oh, we sent you a race horse for Christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh, ha-ha-ha
And they say that when you get married
It'll be to a millionaire
Oh, but they don't realize where you came from
And I wonder if they really care, or give a damn
Oh, but where do you go to, my lovely?
When you're alone in your bed
Oh, won't you tell me the thoughts that surround you?
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
I remember the backstreets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly-born tags, they tried
So look into my face, Marie-Claire
And remember just who you are
Oh, then go and forget me forever
But I know you still bear the scar, deep inside
Oh, I know where you go to my lovely
Oh, when you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
Because I can look inside your head
Na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na-na-na
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