On a French touch background, we touch our lips and our tongues unwind, curious and in love. The fiancée of the matelot smooths the hand of her mouth-biting. In this mattress, lying naked on the mattress. Caress and then in fist, the bellicose goes to the countryside. Between two cups of champagne, do you hear in your company Let's make love in the French way. Gently slips and then agitates. The pompadour is at its best. With a French kiss, without limits. Let's make love in the French way. Let's put poses in our pots. Please accept this rose. Let's sing, come Magali, Christmas. Let's make a pigalle, turn the crank. The Eiffel Tower is in the arc of triumph. And our sacred hearts swell, exultant. The hymn to joy. But I'm not one of those ravagers. And I approach slowly to the air. Under your Republican agreement. Marianne, my very dear friend. Know that I understood you. Let's make love in the French way. Gently slips and then agitates. The pompadour is at its best. With a French kiss, without limits. Let's make love in the French way. Gently slips and then agitates. The Eiffel Tower is in the arc of triumph. With a French kiss, without limits. With a French kiss, without limits. Without limits.
