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Is it all in that pretty little head of yours? |
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What goes on in that place in the dark? |
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Well, I used to know a girl and I could have sworn |
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That her name was Veronica |
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Well, she used to have a carefree mind of her own |
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And a delicate look in her eye |
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These days I'm afraid she's not even sure |
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If her name is Veronica |
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Do you suppose that waiting hands on eyes |
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Veronica has gone to hide? |
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And all the time she laughs at those |
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Who shout her name and steal her clothes |
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Veronica, Veronica |
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Did the days drag by? Did the favors wane? |
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Did he roam down the town all the while? |
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Will you wake from your dream, with a wolf at the door |
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Reaching out for Veronica? |
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Well, it was all of sixty-five years ago |
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When the world was the street where she lived |
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And a young man sailed on a ship in the sea |
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With a picture of Veronica |
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On the 'Empress of India' |
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And as she closed her eyes upon the world |
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And picked upon the bones of last weeks news |
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She spoke his name out loud again |
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Do you suppose that waiting hands on eyes |
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Veronica has gone to hide? |
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And all the time she laughs at those |
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Who shout her name and steal her clothes |
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Veronica, Veronica |
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Veronica sits in her favorite chair |
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She sits very quiet and still |
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And they call her a name that they never get right |
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And if they don't then nobody else will |
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But she used to have a carefree mind of her own |
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With devilish look in her eye |
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Saying, "You can call me anything you like |
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But my name is Veronica" |
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Do you suppose that waiting hands on eyes |
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Veronica has gone to hide? |
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And all the time she laughs at those |
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Who shout her name and steal her clothes |
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Veronica, Veronica, oh, Veronica |
