Текст и слова песни Kingston Trio – Raspberries, Strawberries
Will Holt
Spoken: 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.
Chorus: On the album, Dave sings the beginning of the chorus in phonetic French. Actual French is as follows: 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.
Spoken: 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.
(Chorus)
Spoken: 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.
Spoken: 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.
Chorus: On the album, Dave sings the beginning of the chorus in phonetic French. Actual French is as follows: 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.
Spoken: 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.
(Chorus)
Spoken: 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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