Gina in the King's Road, 1968nBlond hair and eyeshadow , I hyperventilatenPurple leather mini, legs up to therenDon't you cast expressionsnOn my naugahyde affairnnShe can make you believenYou're feeling almost sincerenAnd every day's new years evenShe's giggling in your earnAnd yet she's so hard to reachnAlthough she's so close at handnI'm like a wave on her beachnSinking in the sandnnEveryone went out with her, everyone knew whynNo one ever stayed around, no one ever triednNow Gina drowns her sorrows, drinks away the nightnShe's wrapped around some stranger, hanging on for lifennShe can make you believenYou're feeling almost sincerenAnd every day's new years evenShe's giggling in your earnAnd yet she's so hard to reachnAlthough she's so close at handnI'm like a wave on her beachnSinking in the sandnnNow Gina in the King's Road, in a raincoat shimmering whitenHands thrust in her pockets like Julie Christie mightnLooks up into the distance, puckers up her lipsnI don't stop to talk to her,we're just passing shipsnnShe can make you believenYou're feeling almost sincerenAnd every day's new years evenShe's giggling in your earnAnd yet she's so hard to reachnAlthough she's so close at handnI'm like a wave on her beachnSinking in the sand