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