Poor Butterfly, 'neath the blossoms waiting;
Poor Butterfly, for she loved him so.
The moments passed into hours,
The hours passed into years,
And as she smiles through her tears,
She murmers low.
The moon and I, know that he'll be faithful;
I know he'll come back to me by and by..
But if he don't come back,
Then I'll never sigh or cry ..
I just must die. Poor butterfly. |
