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The French Girl

Gene Clark


Three silver rings
On slim hands waving
Flash bright in candle light
Till Sunday's early dawn (note 1)

We found her room
That rainy morning
She took my hand through winding roads
And led me home

Some red French wine
When later waking
In her warm hideaway
She smiled and combed her hair

But she laughed each time I asked her name
Vague promises to meet again
But her friends down at the French cafe
Had no English words for me

So you may find
Above the border
A girl with silver rings
I never knew her name

You're bound to lose
She's too much for you
She'll leave you lost one rainy morning
You won't be the same

But she laughed each time I asked her name
Vague promises to meet again
But her friends down at the French cafe
Had no English words for me

Composição: Sylvia Fricker / Ian Tyson

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