Just For Two

This poem is about french stereotypes. :}D

Zee Frenchie air, all full of smoke,

Yet not too much, to make you choke.

It fills zee sky, of a magical place,

Where zee men are perverted, and

Zee women carry mace.

Every corner, every lane, every drive,

Every street, zere will always be a

Shoppe, with fresh baguettes to eat.

In every five star diner and in every

Restaurant, zere always be zee finest

Cheese, with wine and warm croissants.

And remember, in zee end, when

You are with your lady friend, zat

Zat balcony outside is just for two.