A letter to the Conlang list by Christophe inspired me to go looking for the lyrics by Rowan Atkinson. The funny thing is I think I’ve only heard it once and when I sing the refrain it is in a charicatured French accent.

We offered kindly to donate them Calais.
And all they gave us back was the bidet.
And now they won’t let us go on holiday.
That’s why I hate the French, mmm,
That’s why I hate the French.

They all wear berets and they’re all called Jacques,
They even steal from us the words they lack.
Le Weekend, Le Camping and cul de sac.
That’s why I hate the French, oh,
That’s why I hate the French.

They claim their films are the best we’ve ever had.
Well I suppose Emmannuelle wasn’t bad.
Charles Aznavour is always so depressed.
Wouldn’t you be if, qui qui, meant yes?
Sacha Distel has raindrops falling on his head.
I wonder if Jean Paul Satre knows he is dead.
What I resent is that they’re so good in bed.
That’s why I hate French, oh,
That’s why I hate the French.

They bake their bread in such a naughty shape.
They brag about their wine and worship the grape.
They criticise our food but then they eat crepe.
That’s why I hate the French, oh,
That’s why I hate the French.

And now they started coming here in droves.
French cigarettes, French letters and French clothes.
I’m sick and tired of eating all this brie.
and I’ll be buggered if I go to gay Paris.
They’re pretty cocky ’bout their games in the dark.
They think with girls they light a special spark.
But look what the bastards did to Joan of Arc.
That’s why I hate the French, oh,
That’s why I hate the French, mmm,
That’s why I hate the French.

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