She Don't Know That I Lie

I stumbled out back and threw up in the garden
Wiped off my shin and my shoes, and I sauntered inside
Another round for the girl in black by the doorway
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know

I spun her well-bothered tale about a boy in the basement
From age 8 to 12 lived of Bordeaux and German white wine
She asked of his name, but I told her I couldn't place it
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know

She leapt 'cross the bar and our lips met like the beaches on D-Day
She tasted of Menthol and brandy, and it was divine
She says: Pardon my French, baisez-moi, tu le savoureras
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know

With a handful of hair, I caught my gaze in the mirror
I finish myself all over her perfect behind
I must be going, au revoir, je m'appelle Dan
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know, that I lie
She don't know