Les maudits français

They speak with precise words
Then pronounce all their syllables
At every turn, they give kisses
They spend their long days at the table

They have menus we don't understand
They drink wine as if it were water
They eat bread and foie gras
Finding a way not to be fat

They protest every quarter hour
On every damn street corner
All taxis have drivers
Who drive like crazy, tailgating

And when they talk about coming to us
It's for the winter or the Indians
Long Ski-Doo rides
Or dog sled rides

They have tiny cups
And huge ashtrays
They make real adult coffee
They gulp it down in two sips

We find their big German shepherds
And their beloved little poodles
On the floors of restaurants
Grocery stores, pharmacies

They say they have dinner when they have supper
And it's two hours when they have lunch
In the early morning, it smells like yogurt
They don't know eggs and bacon

In the evening, it's more sauerkraut
Duck breast or snails
Everything goes well until we taste
Their damn calf's head

A piece of eyelid, a piece of gum
A piece of ear, a piece of snout
For Quebecois taste buds
It's a bit too much

Then they think we're Martians
When we order a glass of milk
Or when we ask: Where's the bathroom?
Is it around here, please?

And when they come to us
They put on a tuque and a Kanuk
Start looking for igloos
End up in a sugar shack

They fall in love right away
With our forests and lakes
And start talking like us
Learn to say: Tabarnak!

And quite drunk on caribou
Molson and strong gin
They rave about our stews
Pig's feet and baked beans

Since we don't have stinky cheeses
They settle for old cheddar
And they don't complain too much
About our crappy coffee

When their stay comes to an end
They realize they no longer have the right
To call us Canadians
When we are Quebecois

They say goodbye, eyes all teary
Maple syrup filling their luggage
We realize we resemble them
Wish them a safe journey

We've reached the point of giving kisses
As if we had always done it
There's a hole in Quebec
When the damn French leave