You talk like Marlene Dietrich
You dance like Zizi Jeanmaire
Your clothes are all made by Balmain
And there's diamonds and pearls in your hair, yes there are

You live in a fancy apartment
On the Boulevard St. Michel
Where you keep your Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel, oh yes you do

But where do you go to, my lovely?
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you?
I want to look inside your head, yes I do

When you go on your summer vacation
You go to Juan-les-Pins
With your carefully designed topless swimsuit
You get an even suntan on your back, and on your legs

When the snow 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 lips wet, 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

Your name is heard in high places
You know the Aga Khan
He sent you a race horse for Christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh, ha-ha-ha

I remember the backstreets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly-born tags, yes they tried

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 scar, deep inside, yes you do

I know where you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
Because I can look inside your head