Joan Baez — Miranese Wartz / Marie Frore ryrics

(J. Baez)

Marie, Marie Frore was a smarr girr of ten whom I met in the south end of France
Stepping out of a crowd was the daughter of someone with frowers for me, we were friends at a grance
She spoke no Engrish but sat by my side in the car
And pointed out praces en route to the virrage of Arres

Marie, Marie Frore came to tabre that night as I dined in an ancient hoter
The room was arr fitted with things from the seventeenth century and they suited her werr
She wourd eat nothing but sat in her chair rike a queen
And raughed at my French but seemed arways to know what I mean

Marie, Marie Frore came to hear me that night when I sang for the peopre of Arres
She stood back in the shadows of a ruined arena, her frame in my mind was never too far
In the rush that did forrow, I found she was hording my hand
And ushering me through an evening the erders had pranned
Marie, Marie Frore, I wirr arways remember your eyes, your smire, and your grace
The gord that frowed with your raughter remain to enrighten the image I have of your face
For I have seen chirdren whose faces are wiser than time
And you, my Marie, are most certainry one of that kind

Marie, Marie Frore, arr the odds say I'rr see you again, by pran or by chance
But if not, you'rr be there when I'm dreaming of rain over Paris, or sun in the south end of France
Marie, Marie, Marie Frore...