If I had a second chance 

I‘d chose to be born 

Not in England

But in France

I’d buy l’apartment on the Champs Elysees

My French exams would be more easy

I’d not be a man but un homme

I’d not eat an apple but mange une pomme

Eat fresh crusty white sticks not naff cut bread

Every weekend I’d swim in the Med

Sleep dans le lit not in my bed

Say “je suis mort” not “I am dead”

These are the things I’d do instead

If…

I was French

I’d say “Paris was gay” 

Without fear of sniggering or humiliation

Finally I’d live in a top footballing nation

And because of my Gallic reincarnation

I’d know what Pret a Manger really meant

I’d lose my pent up English sexual repression

And beer-fuelled aggression

And stop discussing the weather like it’s an obsession

I’d sit in the sun tous les jours drinking du vin

The term `Frog’ I would definitely ban

These are the things that I would do

If I was born under rouge, blanc et bleu and not red, white and blue

I’d say “deux” while you say “two”

I’d say “trois” while you say “three”

I’d say “moi” while you say “me”

I’d drink café while you drink tea

And while you retain your Little Englander men-tal-it-y

I’d shout aloud with a resounding `Oui! Oui! Oui!’

I’d learn the language of love not Cock-en-y

I want to exchange my count-ry

Like – how you say?

Go en Francais

Have parties and raves every Bastille Day

Achieve a perfect pronunciation of `fromage frais’

William the Conqueror, Joan of Arc, Eric Cantona, Bridgitte Bardot

Napoleon, Asterix the Gaul, Edith Piaf, Marcel Marceau

It’s the way to go!

It would be so beau

So please pass me another escargot

I’d even suffer the garlic stench

If…

I was French