Just for M Chirac, hater of all things English is this lovely ditty penned by messrs Curtis & Goodall:
Why I hate the French
These lyrics are from the Live in Belfast performance.
We offered kindly to donate them Calais
And all they gave us back was the bidet
And now they won't let us go on holiday
They bottle bath-water [or 7 Up] and call it Perrier
They eat poor froggie's legs then throw the rest away
They even like the look of Johnny Holliday
They eat raw garlic and invented croquet
They think the height of chic is John Paul Gautier
That's why I hate the French, mmm,
That's why I hate the French
They all wear berets and they're all called Jacques,
They even steal from us the words they lack
Le weekend, Le Camping and cul de sac
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
They claim their films are the best we've ever had
Well I suppose Emmannuelle wasn't bad
All their songs sound more or less the same
La la la la la la la la.........je t'aime
Charles Aznavour is always so depressed
Wouldn't you be if oui oui meant yes?
Sacha Distel has raindrops falling on his head
I wonder if Jean Paul Sartre knows he is dead
What I resent is that they're so good in bed
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
They bake their bread in such a naughty shape
They brag about their wine and worship the grape
They criticise our food but then they eat crepe
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
And now they started coming here in droves
French cigarettes, French letters and French clothes
For breakfast they have croissant or French toast
And there's always some French letters in the post
I'm sick and tired of eating all this brie
A day trip to Boulougne is fine by me
And I'll be buggered if I go to gay Paris.
They're pretty cocky 'bout their games in the dark
They think with girls they light a special spark
But look what the bastards did to Joan of Arc
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French, mmm,
That's why I hate the French.
Why I hate the French
These lyrics are from the Live in Belfast performance.
We offered kindly to donate them Calais
And all they gave us back was the bidet
And now they won't let us go on holiday
They bottle bath-water [or 7 Up] and call it Perrier
They eat poor froggie's legs then throw the rest away
They even like the look of Johnny Holliday
They eat raw garlic and invented croquet
They think the height of chic is John Paul Gautier
That's why I hate the French, mmm,
That's why I hate the French
They all wear berets and they're all called Jacques,
They even steal from us the words they lack
Le weekend, Le Camping and cul de sac
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
They claim their films are the best we've ever had
Well I suppose Emmannuelle wasn't bad
All their songs sound more or less the same
La la la la la la la la.........je t'aime
Charles Aznavour is always so depressed
Wouldn't you be if oui oui meant yes?
Sacha Distel has raindrops falling on his head
I wonder if Jean Paul Sartre knows he is dead
What I resent is that they're so good in bed
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
They bake their bread in such a naughty shape
They brag about their wine and worship the grape
They criticise our food but then they eat crepe
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French.
And now they started coming here in droves
French cigarettes, French letters and French clothes
For breakfast they have croissant or French toast
And there's always some French letters in the post
I'm sick and tired of eating all this brie
A day trip to Boulougne is fine by me
And I'll be buggered if I go to gay Paris.
They're pretty cocky 'bout their games in the dark
They think with girls they light a special spark
But look what the bastards did to Joan of Arc
That's why I hate the French, oh,
That's why I hate the French, mmm,
That's why I hate the French.
