Michele, your fell-a
And girls don’t go together well—
Guys, Michele.

Michele pas belles—
Sont des ’çons qui sautent comme chanterelles
Crûs—ou Eiffels.

He loves dudes, he loves dudes, he loves dudes;
He’d ball ’em any day
Because he’s rather gay.
And his attempts to convert are so
Inverse. Hungers. . .man.

Michele, pas belles
Sont avec lui dans sa cervelle:
Surgi Eiffel.

He needs dudes, he needs dudes, he needs dudes,
He needs not she’s but he’s
To caress and to squeeze—
Like Bill or Stu,
Not Joan or Sue;
He’ll go for Eugene.

He loves dudes.

He wants dudes, he wants dudes, he wants dudes. . .
A bull but not a cow.
He’s set to woo some prow.
His attitude is that a dude
Should drool. . .plunger gland!

Michele, pas belles
Sont avec lui quand il rappelle
Ces “chanterelles.”

He ain’t swayed to bone a girl,
But bros with his plunger gland.
Guys, Michele!