Genét, Genét, You Smell So Sweet
©2001, Susun S Weed
I wrote this song while horseback riding in Provence, France. We rode from inn to inn; six to eight hours a day. The views out to the Alps on one side and the Mediterranean on the other were consistently fine. Originally, there were twelve verses to this song, but one by one, they got lost along the way, until only the lavender, the roses, and the irises remained. If you listen closely, I'm sure you can hear the horses.
Chorus: Genét, genét, you smell so sweet,
Genét you make my senses reel.
Genét, Genét, you have the sweetest smell.
The lavender that grows in rows,
It scents our clothes and things.
Has a smell, gets up your nose,
But it's of genét I sing.
The roses bloom in white and pink,
And every rose has thorns.
They have a smell that's not a stink,
But of genét I'll blow a horn.
The irises they sure look fine;
Their colors can't be beat,
And they smell good all of the time,
But let me now repeat.