The French Girl
Ian Tyson, Sylvia Tyson
[Verse 1]
Three silver rings on slim hands waiting
Flash bright in candlelight 'til Sunday's early morn
We found her room that rainy morning
She took my hand through winding roads and led me home
[Verse 2]
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
[Bridge]
Ah, she laughed each time I asked her name
Vague promises to meet again
But her friends down at thе French café
Had no English words for me
[Verse 3]
So you may find above thе 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 morn, you won't be the same
[Outro]
You won't be the same
