Lyrics:

Tommy Mottola lives on the road
He lost his lady just two months ago
maybe he'll find her, maybe he won't
Oh no, never, no, no
He lives in the back of his big grey cadillac
Oh my honey
Blowin' his mind on cheap grass and wine
oh ain't it crazy baby, yeah
Guess you could say, hey hey, this man has learned his lesson, oh-oh, hey, hey
now he's alone he's got no women and no home
for misery oh- ho, cherchez la femme

Minnie, Minnie Bonita's very upset
she's sick and tired of living in debt
tired of roaches
tired of rats
I know she is
so her noble man says 'baby I understand' oh my honey
now he's working two jobs at 8th Avenue bars
Oh ain't it crazy
now she complains
that her man is never present
so she goes next door, I know she's just playing the whore
for misery, cherchez la femme

they'll tell you a lie with a colgate smile
hey baby
love you one second and hate you the next
oh ain't it crazy, yeah
all I can say
of one thing I am certain
they're all the same
all the sluts and the saints
for misery,
cherchez la femme