Hide this bottle from me,
That I could drink
This Chateauneuf du Pape
More tempting than the smile of a maid,
this Saint Emilion sneaky
Who has no saint but the name,
Hide this bottle from me,
This haut c$ote de Beaune,
Straight from the Middle Ages,
This rosé of Provence so sincere
Who would make pretty Bretons blush,
In a creperie of Brest.
Hide this bottle from me,
This Sauternes so sweet, so sweet
That makes high school girls naughty,
Hide me this bottle,
That I might well drink,
This wild little sauvignon,
Love is enough to make me drunk.
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Que je pourrais bien boire
Ce Chateauneuf du Pape
Plus tentant que les fesses d’une pucelle,
ce Saint Emilion sournois
Qui n’a de saint que le nom,
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Ce haut côte de Beaune,
Venu tout droit du Moyen Age,
Ce rosé de Provence si sincère
Qui ferait rougir de jolies bretonnes,
Dans une crêperie brestoise.
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Ce Sauternes si sucré, si doux
Qui rend les lycéennes coquines,
Cachez moi cette bouteille,
Que je pourrais bien boire,
Ce sauvignon peu sauvage,
L’amour suffit à m’enivrer.
Our affair turned into a peccadillo
three feet eight with hair of brillo
Stick the Boot in, Mrs May
Stick the boot in Putin
Kick him up the bum
Don’t let his megalomania
Stop you from having fun
Stick the boot in Putin,
Kick him in the knee,
Pelt him hard with rotten eggs,
Make him start world war three.
Stick the boot in Putin,
Tell him that Novochok,
Was made by him with rubber gloves,
Plant evidence in his sock.
Stick the boot in Putin,
Look righteous, good and strong,
Demand he ‘fesses up the truth,
(Even if it probably was Iran, Israel, Uzbekistan or some nutter from Porton Down),
He’ll never prove you wrong.