In a place far from here,
Circled by mountains,
Her skirts are raised;
She gently sways.
[?]
Lady Genevieve
Blue of blouse,
Crystal sphere
Slowly revolving -
Her life is seen;
The blues are green.
Kings cannot believe
Lady Geneveie.
Butterfly to appear
Frozen in final motion.
The bargain's made;
Her colors fade.
Collectors have achieved
Lady Genevieve.
Night has come,
So spread your wings
While they all are sleeping.
Try the wind;
Your wings shall mend.
Happily conceive,
Lady Genevieve.
Lady Genevieve,
Torn from the willow,
Rest your head,
Ooh, rest your head.
No one shall receive Lady Genevieve.
Writer(s): John Edmund Andrew Phillips
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