| Here’s a tale, thats hard to tell
|
| The story of, my southern belle
|
| I hate to say, I knew her well
|
| And in no time, in love I fell
|
| She had a vice, one thing she craved
|
| I never knew one, so depraved
|
| She wanted one, before I shaved
|
| Of those, little pieces of Gherkin
|
| You are bedlam, she said to me
|
| Bedlam is madness, so can’t you see
|
| You’ve got to make a sacifice
|
| And go to the grocers, I’ve been there twice
|
| The grocer man was very nice
|
| He worked alone, all by himself
|
| Then I saw upon the shelf;
|
| Two little jars of those green Gherkins
|
| Strangley enough, two jars of Gherkins
|
| I wondered if they’d made the grade
|
| Would they be worth, the price I paid
|
| They’d be right, I hoped and prayed
|
| 'Cause if they were, I have it made
|
| My southern belle was not impressed
|
| My Gherkin power, had failed the test
|
| And now she’s gone, like all the rest
|
| For those strange little pieces of Gherkin
|
| Those starnge little pieces of Gherkin
|
| And when I hold your arms
|
| I wanna be near you, inside your charms
|
| Because, because, because, I love you, I love you so
|
| You make me wanna break down and cry
|
| Comme c’est dommage
|
| Qui, comme c’est diole
|
| Que je me trouve, tout seule
|
| Le ciel si rouge
|
| La mer si bleu
|
| Into it, myself I throw
|
| Peut etre, je suis Un «stupid French git», comme tout le monde dit… |