Where Do You Go To My Lovely  -----  Peter Sarstedt

You talk like Marlene Dietrich
And you dance like Zizi Jean-Maire
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
Off the boulevard Saint-Michel
Where you keep your  Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel, 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

I've seen all your qualifications
You got from the Sorbonne
And the painting you stole from Picasso
Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does

When you go on your summer vacation 
You go to Juan-le_Pins
With your carefuly designed topless swinsuit
You get an even suntan on your back and on your legs

And when the snow falls you're found in Saint Mortiz
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
When you'r alone in your bed
Won't you tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do

Your name, it 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 lauth a-ha-ha-ha

They say what when you get married
It'll be a millionare
But they don't realize where you came from
And I wonder if they really care, or give a damn

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

I remember the back streets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly-born tags, so 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 that 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
'Cause I can look inside your head