Paroles de la chanson Raspberries Strawberries par The Kingston Trio
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Paroles de la chanson Raspberries Strawberries par The Kingston Trio
A young man goes to Paris, as every young man should. There's something in the air of France that does a young man good
Ah! les fraises et les fromboises et les bon vins (que) nous avons bus
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
Here's to the girls of the countryside, the ones we drink 'em to
Paris nights are warm and fair. The summer winds are soft. A young man finds the face of love in every field and loft. In every field and loft
Ah! les fraises et les fromboises et les bon vins (que) nous avons bus
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
Here's to the girls of the countryside, the ones we drink 'em to
Paris nights are warm and fair. The summer winds are soft. A young man finds the face of love in every field and loft. In every field and loft
Ah! les fraises et les fromboises et les bon vins (que) nous avons bus
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
Here's to the girls of the countryside, the ones we drink 'em to
An old man returns to Paris as ev'ry old man must. He finds the winter winds blow cold. His dreams have turned to dust. His dreams have turned to dust. His dreams have turned to dust
Ah! les fraises et les fromboises et les bon vins que nous avons bus
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
Here's to the girls of the countryside, the ones we drink 'em to
An old man returns to Paris as ev'ry old man must. He finds the winter winds blow cold. His dreams have turned to dust. His dreams have turned to dust. His dreams have turned to dust
Ah! les fraises et les fromboises et les bon vins que nous avons bus
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Raspberries, strawberries, the good wines we brew
Here's to the girls of the countryside, whom we must bid adieu
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