Tommy Mottola lives on the road
He lost his lady two months ago
Maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't
Oh no, never, no
(He sleeps in the back)
Of his big grey Cadillac, oh my honey
Blowing his mind on cheap grass and wine
Oh, ain't it crazy, baby, hey
I guess you could say, hey, hey
The man has learned his lesson, oh-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 and tired of rats
I know she is, oh
(So her noble man)
Says, "Baby, I understand", oh my honey
Now he's working two jobs at Eighth Avenue bars
Oh, ain't it crazy, baby
Now she complains
That her man is never present, no
So she goes next door
I know that she's just playing the whore
Hey, for misery, my friend, hey
Cherchez la femme
They'll tell you a lie
With a Colgate smile, hey baby
Love you one second and hate you the next one
Oh, ain't it crazy, yeah
All I can say, ay, hey
Of one thing I am certain, ooh-hoo, ooh-hoo
They're all the same
All the sluts and the saints
For misery, my friend
Cherchez la femme
Hey now, cherchez la femme
Oh babe, cherchez la femme
Yeah, cherchez la femme
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, that's amora, cherchez)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, that's amora, cherchez)
Amora, amora
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, that's amora, cherchez la femme)
Be mine, be mine
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, amora, cherchez la femme)
Be mine
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, that's amora)
[6x:]
(Se si bon, se si bon, se si bon, se si bon, oooh)
(Cherchez la femme, rumba)