paroles de chanson The French Girl - Sylvia , Ian
Three
silver
rings
On
slim
hands
waving
Flash
bright
in
candle
light
Till
Sunday′s
early
morn
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
We
talked
of
all
We
talked
of
nothing
I
left
with
promises
to
meet
She
told
me
where
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
some
rainy
morning
You
won't
be
the
same
You
won′t
be
the
same
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