Raspberries, Strawberries

A young man goes to Paris As every young man should There's something in the Paris air That does a young man good Ah! Les fraises et les framboises et bons vins que nous avons rur 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 Les fraises et les framboises et bons vins que nous avons rur 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 every old man must And feels 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 framboises et bons vins que nous avons rur 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