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The French Girl – Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan

 

 LYRICS

..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..

 

bob dylan

Written by ugur

Ugur is an editor and writer at Need Some Fun (NSF News), specializing in technology, world news, history, archaeology, cultural heritage, science, entertainment, travel, animals, health, and games. He produces in-depth, well-researched, and reliable stories with a strong focus on emerging technologies, digital culture, cybersecurity, AI developments, and innovative solutions shaping the future. His work aims to inform, inspire, and engage readers worldwide with accurate reporting and a clear editorial voice.
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