I know a girl
Called Bonie Moronie.
She’s got no more fat
Than a macaroni.
When she moves
In her blue-jean
feel jumping
My adrenalin.
	
She’s all mine, I’m all hers,
Like the moon attracts the tide
Or like the wind flowin’
Thru the apple tree.
	
Bonie and I, we gonna marry
Next year, before the summer.
I’m gonna visit her mom, pa and brother,
To obtain the right to woo her.
	
We gonna make
A big and fleshy party
On Seraing hights or in Ougrée-city.
My brother Yo will be the DJ,
And for sure we’ll scramble all the way.
	
If what I tell you
Happens in Herstal ,
It’s gonna be the same banquet,
Except that I’ll put Bill Haley on the deck
To make everybody danse on Laixheau street.