She wears violet, like a royal,
Style and manners most refined;
While real life makes her recoil.

Though her crown is paste and foil,
Her attire's well-defined;
She wears violet, like a royal.

On her throne, she'll never toil,
Strands out of place, you'll never find;
While real life makes her recoil.

All her subjects are most loyal,
In this palace she's designed;
She wears violet, like a royal.

Her blood, it does not boil,
To hard work, she's not inclined;
While real life makes her recoil.

Her bare flesh does not touch soil,
In a fantasy, confined;
She wears violet, like a royal.
While real life makes her recoil.

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