The French Girl (take 1)

..on slim hands waiting

Flash bright in candlelight 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 waiting

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



Oh, but she laughed each time I asked her name

Made promises to meet again

But her friends down at the French café

Had no English words for me



So you may find above the border

A girl with silver rings..