oh my corduroy boy, won't you take me away, to a place in the country,
a la campagne, mon amour,
where we will have intensely pretentious conversations about literature and art.
si tu veux, mon espoir.
And you can kiss my shoulders as we read Candide,
We'll snicker at Voltaire's ironies Francaises.
We'll stay up late into the night, and sleep late into the day,
Getting fat on Gouda and Godiva, and love beyond all reason.