Tommy Mottola lives on the road He lost his lady two months ago Maybe he’ll find her, maybe he won’t, Oh no, never, nooo He sleeps in the back of his grey 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 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, oooh So her noble man says "Baby I understand, oh my honey" Now he’s working two jobs of Eighth Avenue bars Oh, ain’t it crazy baby Now she complains That her man is never present, no So she goes next door, I know that She’s just playing whore Hey for misery (my friend) Cherchez la femme They tell you a lie with a Colgate smile, hey baby Love you one second and hate you the next one