Poor bu*terfly 'neath the blossoms waiting;
Poor bu*terfly, for she loved him so
The moments pa** into hours, the hours pa** into years
And as she smiles through her tears, she murmers low
"The moon and I know that he'll be faithful;
I'm sure he'll come back, by and by
But if he don't come back, then I never sigh or cry
I just must die." Poor bu*terfly