Southern Breeze

Mah name's Pierre Foofe, Ah come from Montmartre Ah play ze Moulin Rouge, Ah'm a famous French fartre Ah stands on ze stage, Ah whistle and hum Ah make animal noises through ze hole in mah bum Whizza bugle or flute, Ah can play any theme from God Save ze Weasel to Pop Goes ze Queen Ah can trumpet or whisper whizout loosing mah breath mah songs zey have pongs for ze sake of ze deaf A poem Ah'll recite, demonstrating mah art illustrated by noises straight from ze heart Avez-vous ze cabbage, ze baked beans? Merci! Un moment, s'il-vous plait Ah wake up in ze morning and when Ah bend over Is my faithful dog Rover And zen in ze bathroom, each morn' wizout fail Mah puss' cat, Ah've stood on his tail Ze maid brings me breakfast of baked beans and pears And when Ah 'ave dined, Ah walk down ze stairs From mah window Ah see a small duck walking by And above is a cuckoo, who sings in ze sky Ah walk down ze path through ze old creaking gate And 'ere comes a chicken who seems rather irate Farmer Giles with his chainsaw is cutting down trees And zen he sits among ze cabbage and peas His Mary, from ze dairy, she make mah 'eart throb She watching ze bull and ze cow on ze job Ah walk up to her and Ah tip'a mah hat "Madamoiselle", Ah say, "Ah wish zat ah was doing zat" She turns and replies in tones sweet and refined "Well, why don't you then, I'm sure the cow won't mind" Zis iz'a some of your English'a humour, non? Sacre-bleu! Merde! Ah could live in your eyes, Ah say, each one's a bright one She say "You be quite at home there, there's a sty in the right one" At zis gay badinage Ah laugh like a jackass Pass by faithful Rover and kick him in ze knackers Ah what 'appiness life in ze countryside arouses Ah! Oo! Quelle dommage! Excusez-moi - Ah must'a change mah trousers Oh! Frappe un lumiére!