Plain Jane

 

 


She swears like a trooper
She talks my ear off
Always uses the wrong fork
She bores me to tear

Nobody likes to chew the fat as much as she does
Her tongue is always wagging, but so sharp… on my body

She thinks she's God gift to men
She's dressed like a scarecrow
Got a face like the back of a bus
She's no oil painting

She thinks she's the best thing since sliced bread, she's a plain Jane
But you wouldn't believe what she can do… with that ugly body

She sets my teeth on edge
Got a chip on her shoulder
Hardly is what you'd call smart
She's got rocks in her head

She doesn't know enough to come out of the rain, she's a fruitcake
But you wouldn't believe the size of… her wallet !

Musique : Pierre Dorso
Chant et Paroles : Christian Bruel

 
 





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