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