Since I was a girl, I've been good at embroidery.
I finished up my finishing school in Switzerland.
Then I escaped to Evian, wound my car down the Alps, lived only on apricots
Picked by the side of the road.
In Vevey I lived with two spinsters who spoke only French
But mostly bickered.
They fed me strawberry wine,
I sat in my room writing you lines on doilies,
They all said the same thing:
I wish you were here.
The lights on Lake Geneva are a sight for sore eyes.
They turn the water into glass,
I could step on it and be in Lausanne.
Then I'd be just miles from you, maybe I'd see you in line at the shooting booths,
Maybe you'd buy me an ice cream cone.
But if you look you'll see my initials stitched inside your left breast pocket,
The one you keep your handkerchief in,
The one closest to you heart.
Since I was a girl I've been good at embroidery,
Since I was a girl I've been good at embroidery.
But no needlepoint will bring you,
Across this continental divide,
Across the Atlantic Ocean to where
I am now!