|
Tommy Mottola lives on the road |
|
He lost his lady two months ago |
|
Maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't, |
|
oh, oh, never, nooo |
|
He sleeps in the back of his grey Cadillac, oh my honey |
|
Blowing his mind on cheap grass and wine |
|
Oh ain't it crazy baby, hey |
|
Guess you could say hey, hey |
|
This man has learned his lesson, oh hey |
|
Now he's alone |
|
He's got no woman and no home |
|
For misery, oh, oh |
|
Cherchez la femme |
|
Miggie, Miggie Bonija's very upset |
|
She's sick and tired of living in debt |
|
Tired of roaches, tired of rats, I know she is oooh |
|
So her noble man says, |
|
"Baby I understand, oh my honey" |
|
Now he's working two jobs at Eighth Avenue bars |
|
Oh ain't crazy baby |
|
Now she complains |
|
That her man is never present, no |
|
She goes next door, I know that she's just playing the whore |
|
Hey for misery (my friend) |
|
Cheechez la femme |
|
They tell you a lie with a colgate smile, hey baby |
|
Love you one second and hate the next one |
|
Oh ain't it crazy, yeah |
|
All I can say , ay, hey, og one thing I am certain, oh, oh |
|
They're all the same, all the sluts and the saints For misery (my friend), "Cherchez la femme" |
