Oh oh the french girls with the string of pearls   Think it's such a fucking shame   That the local boys with their country joys   Never make them daisy chains   They're swapping disappointing incidents   While at the docks another ship pulls in   And suddenly the door breaks down (ooh la la)   It's the seven deadly finns         Oh oh oh soldiers and sailors   Have all been here before   Gigolos and governments   Have stumbled through that door   Because they need all those french girls with all their kiss curls   And powder in their guns   And the seven finns with their deadly grins   Tend to measure beauty in tuns.         The first is a freak with a masochistic streak   And the second is a kitten up a tree   The third is a flirt with an awful print skirt   And the fourth is pretending to be me   The fifth wears a mac and never turns his back   The sixth never shows his eyes   But the seventh deadly finn is so tall and slim   He shoulda never been with those guys.         Although variety's the spice of life   A steady rhythm is the source   Simplicity's the crucial thing   Systemically of course (work it all out like norbert wiener)   So if those french girls say to you   'would you like your ashes piped ? '   You'll have to take their word for it   It's the only thing to take...