Now here I am in Brittany

The Celtic shores of France

Out here, the pheasants breed like rabbits

And the quail infest like ants

The Brittany spaniels are a sight for sore eyes

They sure make a Scottie's tummy growl

And so, I fall in ranks with them

And pheasants, we do prowl

Ooh, I love those Breton lady lumps

They make me dream of Fergie

They've got me obsessed on so many hunts

I forget to watch the birdie

Many pheasants fly over me,

Many Brittany spaniels fetch them

As fun as it is to hunt with them,

It's impossible to get one to say, "je vous aime"

France takes over Brittany fast

There might be more poodles here than spaniels

The Frenchies here are fat, but fertile

I think maybe their favorite drink is Jack Daniel's

The bitches here are as smooth at Tennessee whiskey

They're as sweet as strawberry wine

They're as warm as a glass of brandy

I stay strong on their love all the time

(Whether I want to, or not!)

Many partners I take in love

It's hard to reject a single one

Plus, their hearts are very fragile

They might as well be nuns

One night, it was bound to happen

And forking gourd, it did:

The spaniels caught me with a Bichon Frise

Their teeth into my arse, they have bit

Fare thee well, fair Brittany

Fare thee well, I'm outward bound

I got a feeling there are many more love-bites on the arse

On the path that I am bound,

There'll be more to go around!