Cherchez La Femme Lyrics - Nat King Cole

Tommy Mottola lives on the road 

He lost his lady two months ago 

Maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't, 

Oh, oh, never, no 

He sleeps in the back of his gray Cadillac, oh my honey 

Blowing his mind on cheap grass and wine 

Oh ain't it crazy baby, hey 

Guess you could say hey, hey 

This man has learned his lesson, oh hey 

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Now he's alone 

He's got no woman and no home 

For misery, oh, oh 

Cherchez la femme 

Miggie, Miggie Bonija's very upset 

She's sick and tired of living in debt 

Tired of roaches, tired of rats, I know she is ooh 

So her noble man says, 

"Baby I understand, oh my honey" 

Now he's working two jobs at Eighth Avenue bars 

Oh ain't crazy baby 

Now she complains 

That her man is never present, no 

She goes next door, I know that she's just playing the whore 

Hey for misery (my friend) 

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Cheechez la femme 

They tell you a lie with a colgate smile, hey baby 

Love you one second and hate the next one 

Oh ain't it crazy, yeah 

All I can say, ay, hey, og one thing I am certain, oh, oh 

They're all the same, all the sluts and the saints 

For misery (my friend), "Cherchez la femme"