Track : Puesta del sol
Artist : King Kitch
Album : Ibiza Revisited
ambient chillout electronic 00s groovesalad Puesta del sol by King Kitch from album Ibiza Revisited
Duration : 5 minutes & 50 seconds.
Listener : 2154 peoples.
Played : 7209 times and counting.
You talk like Marlène 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
You go to the embassy parties
Where you talk in Russian and Greek
And the young men who move in your circle
They hang on every word you speak, yes I 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 sun tan, on your back and on your legs
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
You're in-between twenty an thirty
A very desirable age
Your body is firm and inviting
But you live on a glittering state, yes you do, yes you 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 ahaha
They say that when you get married
It'll be to a millionaire
But they don't realise 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, and 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