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, no, 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 (Guess you could say)
(La femme fatale, La Belle bien sur)
This man has learnt his lesson
Oh-oh, hey, hey
Now he's alone (Now he's alone)
He's got no woman and no home
For misery oh-ho
Cherchez la femme

Miggie, Miggie Bonija's very upset
She's sick and tired of bein' in debt
Tired of roaches (Tired of roaches)
And tired of rats (Tired of rats)
I know she is, oh-oh oh oh oh 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, yeah
Now she complains (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 friends
Cherchez la femme

They'll tell you a lie with a colgate smile
Hey baby
Love you one second and hate you the next
Oh, no ain't it crazy, yeah

All I can say, hey hey
Of one thing I am certain
They're all the same
All the sluts and the saints
For misery, my friends
Cherchez la femme

Hey, now
Cherchez la femme