The morning sun touched lightly on br The eyes of Lucy Jordan br In her 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 37 br She realized she'd never ride br Through Paris in a sports car br With the warm wind in her hair. br So she let the phone keep ringing br As she sat there, softly singing br Little nursery rhymes she'd memorized br In her daddy's easy chair. br br Her husband is off to work, br And the kids are off to school, br And there were, oh, so many ways br 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 streets, br Screaming all the way! br br At the age of 37 br She realized she'd never ride br Through Paris in a sports car br With the warm wind in her hair. br So she let the phone keep ringing br As she sat there, softly singing br Little nursery rhymes she'd memorized br In her daddy's easy chair. br br The evening sun touched gently on br 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 to the man br 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 37 br She knew she'd found forever, br As she rolled along through Paris br With the warm wind in her hair.