When I’ve been sight-seeing abroad,
And I’ve had a terrible thirst to quench,
I remember it’s ‘Puis-je avoir une bière’,
Then ‘L'addition s'il vous plait’ in French.

I know how to shop for bread in France,
And how to shop for sausages in Spain.
When I say is ‘Une baguette s'il vous plaît’,
Or ‘Salchichas por favor’, it’s fine in the main.

However, if a waiter replies, I’m done for.
My well-rehearsed phrases are all I’ve got.
My nervousness gets the better of me,
And I spurt out ‘Avez-vous une Mug Shot?’

I can’t be put on the back foot any more.
I’m taking a French conversation class.
I want to be to converse rather freely,
And not be known as an English ass!

I’ll soon be chatting to the locals.
Enjoying a glass of wine together.
I’ll talk about sport, food and politics.
I might even talk about the weather.

I want to be known as Monsieur Éric,
And no more the English ass.
Like my friend Alex, who can say ‘Oo-la-la’,
I want my French to be first class.

I want to shop for garlic and onions.
For French red wine by the case.
And when a French man says ‘Bonjour’,
I want a kiss on each cheek as we embrace.