Mid-week Music

Today's tune I found when I was looking for yesterday's video. If you haven't seen it yet, check it out here. A 1969 pop sensation, maybe just admired by the television presenter. It is Peter Sarstedt's Where Do You Go To (My Lovely), playing on top of the pops with a spiffing hair-do and moustache.

Give it up for an old classic singing about modern topics...

Where Do You Go To (My Lovely) by Peter Sarstedt

You talk like Marlene Dietrich 
And 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 
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-les-Pins 
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 Saint 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 
When you're 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 racehorse for Christmas 
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh, a-ha-ha-ha 

They say that when you get married 
It'll be to a millionaire 
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 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 
'Cause I can look inside your head 

(na na-na-na na na-na-na na-na na na na na) 
(na na-na-na na na-na-na na-na na na na na)

Have a wonderful day.
A Bientot,

Joyfully Light