French women: do they or don't they?

Listening as ever to C&P's favourite radio station Radio Deliro (no, they don't sponsor us, I just love them and I have to mention them constantly in case they don't get enough listeners and have to shut down) - well, anyway, the following brilliant Charles Aznavour song came on, which I present in translation:

YOU'VE LET YOURSELF GO (Tu t'Laisses Aller)
(Charles Aznavour / Marcel Stellman)


It's funny, when I look at you
While not a single word is said
I know, I had a drink or two
But that's not what's gone to my head
I laugh and I recall our youth
Perhaps you'll say that I'm uncouth
But it's high time you knew the truth
About the way you make me feel
And what the future holds in store
For I can't stand it anymore

Why should I even try and hide
Whatever I may feel inside
You lie, you curse and you provoke
And then you treat it as a joke
You know, at times you go too far
Even in front of all my friends
How could we hope to make amends
You know that you've let yourself go

You look a sight, sure you look great
Your stocking seams, not even straight
And that old faded dressing gown
Your hair in curlers hanging down
What could I have been thinking of
Was it with you I fell in love
Are you the girl that could inspire
A heart with passion and desire
I gaze at you in sheer despair
And see your Mother standing there

In front of strangers you're the same
You don't mind putting me to shame
You contradict each word I say
Why, you would turn night into day
You like to hurt me when you can
I'm just a rug and not your man
I hit the jackpot, yes, I know
You've let yourself go

At times you're cruel, beyond control
Have you no heart, have you no soul
And as I take a look at life
I realise that you're my Wife
A little effort, not much more
And things could be just as before
You know, you'ld lose a little weight
If you would watch all that you ate
A little style, a little grace
And try to show a smiling face

I couldn't hate you if I tried
I really want you by my side
So try, try and be the girl I knew
Let's really start our love anew
I want to hold you in my arms
And then surrender to your charms
Let there be fire, not just a glow
Come close to me, let yourself go


Charles Aznavour is, lest we forget, French. By coincidence, this is the first book I sold this morning.

One of them is lying.