If…I Was French

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
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
I was French