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