I got a call from my old writing partner from college, Jeff

And uh you know we were kind of drinking talking to each other on the phone

And he goes, “You know, I bet you I can name a subject that you can’t write a song about.”

And I said, “Alright fucker. Let’s hear it, what you got?”

And he goes, “How about a homeless guy?”

And I said. “ Easy.”

And he said “Who is French”

Let’s give it a shot

If this doesn’t go over I owe him a lot of money

My story is so tiresome

*laughing from crowd*

Alright let’s try that again

My story is so tiresome (tiresome)

Back in France I was rich as they come (as they come)

But I lost all my wealth and my good mental health

Now I live with the filth and the scum (and the scum)

I’m Pierre, the only French bum in New York

When I open my Boone’s Farm I still sniff the cork

So have you a quarter I’m begging you please

I have to have wine with my government cheese

I really should bid you adieu (bid adieu)

I’m feeling a bit sac re bleu (sac re bleu)

My life is a hell, I give off a bad smell

But I’m French so that’s always been true (P.U)