OK, I've obviously too much time on my hands. Here's the exact version I have on tape, which has some extra verses and different words from the version already sent in here.

PS: thanks to "Guest" and Martin Ryan for making the task a lot easier.

CHANTAL DU CHAMPIGNON
(Brian O' Rourke)

1. Oh, one night in a bar I was having a jar
When my destiny it beckoned,
For a vision burst in on top of my thirst
And flattened me pint in a second.
'Twas a lady fair with short blonde hair
And her beauty would shame all queens,
With her glistening lips and her twisting hips
In her slim-fitting Levi jeans.

2. I slid off of me stool, observed me first rule:
I checked me fly and me fainne,
And got ready for a story, all glitter and glory,
Like Diarmuid agus Grainne.
Well, me opening line was, "Hiya, Sunshine.
How's it goin'? Me name is John."
And with a toss of her head this goddess said,
"I'm Chantal du Champignon."

3. "Oh, bedad," I said. "You're a thoroughbred.
You're no cavewoman from Cavan.
You're operatic, aristocratic and very aromatic,
So tell us what are ya havin'?"
From the furrow on her brow, I could see just how
She was torn between a short and a long.
"I'll have an Irish Coffee and a pint of Murphy,"
Said Chantal du Champignon.

4. She'd been hitching around and as yet she hadn't found
Any savages scouting for scalps.
She had scaled the peaks of Kildare and Leix,
Which left her homesick for the Alps.
She'd seen nearly all of Donegal
And learned "Slainte" and "Slan agus Beannacht",
When some racial purist who couldn't stand tourists
Told her go to hell or to Connacht.

5. So here she lands with a week on her hands
Before flying back to France,
And she'd like to get to know Galway and Mayo,
So, boys, I saw my chance.
I said, "I'm your man. I've a Hiace van,
And I've damn-all to do just now,
And me five-acre farm won't come to no harm.
Sure the calf can milk the cow.

6. "Oh, to you I'll show Galway and Mayo,
My privilege and my pleasure,
And for fear you'd grumble, sure I'll do like Cromwell,
And throw Clare in for good measure.
So to hell with the silage. Lets clock up some mileage.
You'll be as safe as with your Daddy."
She said, "I like you more than I did before.
I'll have a Smithwick's and a Paddy."

7. So next day we drove by creek and cove,
All along the western seaboard,
And the music of her voice was twice as nice
As the notes from any keyboard.
For example: "Oh, John, you turn me on.
You completely fill up my senses.
I can see in your eyes all the stars of the skies
Shining out through your contact lenses!"

8. I pulled up the van and she said, "Oh, John,
Please don't take it amiss."
I said, "That's not, you'll find, what I had in mind.
All I want to take is a kiss."
Well, her eyes shone bright and her teeth gleamed white
And her breath it smelled of garlic,
And she tore into me lips like fish and chips
In the shadows of Croagh Patrick.

9. Well, after such happiness, there was no stopping us.
We clocked up hundreds of miles.
We spent thousands of hours around round towers
Of various slants and styles.
Near passage graves and lakes and caves,
In historic and holy places,
Near saint and hero, we reduced to zero
The distance between our faces.

10. And 'twas in the county Clare, I do declare,
We drank many's the tasty beverage,
And the intensity of our propensity
Was way above the average.
Down in Curkambro (?) where the gales they blow,
And the rain fell fast and furious,
By all the gods above, she swore "undying love",
And I thought, "Jay, this is serious".

11. And at Poulnabrone, under twenty ton of stone,
We drank rainbow-coloured wines.
Oh, inside that dolmen, sure I pitied King Solomon.
He could keep his concubines.
Then I offered to show her the Cliffs of Moher
And she showed me a thing or two too,
And in O'Connor's of Doolin, she said, "I'm not foolin'.
I want to spend my life with you."

12. Well, the days flew fast and the week soon passed
Between one thing and another,
And she'd a plane to catch back to Paris-Match
To see her father and brother—and her two sisters and her mother.
So we loaded up the van with cheese and ham
And some six-packs from the fridge,
With a Guinness keg for the final leg
Of our amorous pilgrimage.

13. In the ruins of Clonfert, sure we had a little flirt.
I thought I heard Saint Brendan cheerin'.
And we discovered new joys in Clonmacnoise,
Courtesy of Saint Ciaran.
We drew into Dunlavin about twenty-five to seven
And dropped in to see my Uncle Ted,
And we hit Glendalough around eleven o'clock
And we slept in Saint Kevin's bed.

14. Diddle ow dow dow, Diddley ow dildi dildi
Diddle eye di diddley eye ay,
Skiddery eydil dudil dee, skiddery oudil dyay,
Skiddily eye di di di ay.

15. Well, next morning we were yawning as the day was dawning
And it dawned on me - Oh, she's going,
So we drove to the smoke where these words she spoke
Before she boarded the Boeing:
"I'll acquaint my parents with what's transpired,
And my paltry possessions I'll pack,
Then I'll return on wings of desire
And up with you I'll shack."

16. So that night I flew low through Athlone and Ballinasloe.
I was home in an hour and a half!
And although it was kinda late, I just had to celebrate,
So I killed the fatted calf,
And next day I booked a room for my upcoming honeymoon
Where no-one would be any wiser,
And in raptures and ruptures, I published me nuptials
In the Galway Advertiser!

17. For six days or seven, sure I thought I was in heaven.
I was trying it out for size,
But like every other lover, I was shortly to discover
'Twas an amadán's paradise,
For while I was thinking that the Kingdom had come,
And was chantin' "Alleluia,"
Chantal was listening to a different drum
And singing, "Johnny, I hardly knew ye!"

18. Well, I danced and I sang till the night she rang.
She said, "John, sit down on the sofa,
For I've got some news that will give you the blues.
In a nutshell, cherie, it's over.
On the plane coming back, I was told for a fact
By a man who was once your friend,
You spent two years in the loony bin,
Without marbles, round the bend."

19. "Oh, Chantal," says I, "you were told a lie,
Although it's neither here nor there.
'Twas five years I spent in the oxygen tent,
With a hole in me ozone layer.
But 'twas want of whoopee that had me loopy,
And sure you've sorted out that trouble,
So apply some fire to them wings of desire,
And get back here on the double."

20. "Oh, John," said she, "I quite agree
That you could do with a woman,
But if you think I'll be your shrink,
You've got another think coming.
Consider, besides, if I was your bride,
In forty years, I would 'ave no fun,
For I'm no more than twenty-four
And you are forty-one!

21. "Oh, yes, I know I'll miss your eyes and your kiss
And your fingers running through my hair,
But if I lost ze head in St. Kevin's bed,
I got it back in ze clear French air!
I got off that jet and my parents I met
And I got my act together.
I saw the line they would draw at a son-in-law
Who was a middle-aged Irish header.

22. "Oh, but as sure as I'm blonde, of you I'm still fond,
And I might even write - we'll see -
And I don't regret and I won't forget
Our petit coin du paradis.
Now, I'm in a little hurry - be happy, don't worry -
And think how much you have grown."
And when I opened me face to plead me case,
She put down the frigging phone!

23. Well, I staggered to the mirror and confronted there with terror
A pathetic poor put-upon paddy of a peasant,
So I made smithereens of her Levi jeans
That she gave me for a weddin' present.
And I made mincemeat of her other little treat:
Two lovely blue pottery goblets,
And I sat down and I wrote a suicide note,
And swallowed thirty-five quids' worth of tablets.

24. A week later I awoke and my heart it nearly broke
For I suddenly chanced to remember
I was in a proper mess for I hadn't her address,
Not to mind her telephone number.
So I took a quick look in the French phone book.
It was most unsatisfactory.
After all me research, I was still left in the lurch,
For her daddy was ex-directory.

25. Well, the days went by and there was I,
A wreck by any reckoning.
Sure I lost two stone sitting by the phone,
But the silence from France was deafening.
Oh, me breath I bated. For the post I waited,
All day and all night long,
But ne'er a letter nor a card came up the yard,
From Chantal du Champignon.

26. And then I tried to make a pass at her via our ambassador.
I explained I was besotted.
He was very sympathetic but said something about ethics,
And he told me to "get knotted."
Then I hired a spy whose fees were high,
To assist my research along.
Well, he collected his fees but came up no leads
On Chantal du Champignon.

27. Oh, was she down at heel in the town of Lille
Or at large in La Rochelle?
Lettin' down her hair in the Follies Bergere,
Belly-dancing her way to hell?
Was she singing ze blues, below in Toulouse,
Or picking pockets in Perpignan?
And, mein Gott! but what if her name was not
Chantal du Champignon?

28. Well, I'd lost the scent so gung-ho I went
To phone Monsieur Mitterand.
But I couldn't get through to the President
Although I threatened his aide-de-camp.
Then the towel I threw, I resigned, withdrew,
Although I had done no wrong.
Oh, I thought I had her taped - but the vixen she escaped
Like Marie de Robinson!

29. Now, an awful lot of water has been led to the slaughter
Since she led me this merry dance.
And I never took a wife, for I wasted me life
Looking out for a letter from France.
Oh, Chantal, Chantal, sure I love you still,
More than in the times that's gone.
Although you're going on eighty-four
And I'm tipping a hundred and one.

30. I've outlived all me mates, and I've lost all me slates,
And I'm back in the oxygen tent,
And me ozone holes are scoring own goals
In me pitch-black firmament.
There's more tears in me eyes than stars in the skies.
I've lost contact with me lenses.
But I'm sure I could get through a dark night with you
And recover my soul and me senses.

31. Now come all you middle-aged Irish nutters,
And a warning take by me.
Take care when you go out to get scuttered
In your local hostelry.
Don't be a fool. Stay up on your stool.
Sit tight and drink yourself stupid.
Give your number one to whiskey and rum
And don't waste your vote on Cupid!

32. And if by chance some goddess from France
With luminous short blond hair
Lights up your horizon - stick to your poison.
In two simple words - Beware!
Make no overture. Give no misguided tour,
'Cause Diarmuid agus Grainne went wrong!
And after all your mileage, she'll leave you sitting in your silage
Like Chantal du Champignon.

33. Oh, now, although you're jarred, please disregard
The advice I gave you just then,
Or you'll be stuck in first gear for a hundred years
Like a bloody old farmyard hen.
For when all is said and done, I once flew near the sun.
For one week, I was a swan.
I was on the wing and I learned to sing
With Chantal de Champignon.

34. Oh, Chantal, Chantal, I hope you're still me pal,
And don't think this song a blunder,
For I adore far more than I ever did before
The ground you walk on - or maybe lie under.
Oh, don't take a dim view. If I laugh at you,
What do you think I'm doing to me?
And, please God and Saint Kevin, sure we might find again in Heaven
Our petit coin du paradis, mon amour,
Our petit coin du paradis.

END.