Wendy Mcneill Lutetia
She is so soft on this summer morning
Church bells ring, her dogs are yawning
Warm breeze carries last night’s feeling
Wine, music, red river dealings
She is ghosts of grandmothers and kings
Nine million clowns and pretty things
She is torment, she is strife
She is beauty, she is spice
She cries for the animals, sings for the boys
Dirt road charity, stone in her voice
She cries for the animals, sings for the boys
Inhales disparity, chokes on the choice
She cries for the animals, sings for the boys
Dirt road charity, stone in her voice
Inhales disparity, chokes on the choice
Cries for the animals, sings for the boys
She cries for the animals, sings for the boys
Dirt road charity, stone in her voice
Inhales disparity, chokes on the choice
Cries for the animals, sings for the boys
She is ghosts of grandmothers and kings
Nine million clowns and pretty things
She is torment, she is strife
She is beauty, she is spice
