bu*terflies are white and blue
In this field we wander through.
Suffer me to take your hand.
d**h comes in a day or two.
All the things we ever knew
Will be ashes in that hour,
Mark the transient bu*terfly,
How he hangs upon the flower.
Suffer me to take your hand.
Suffer me to cherish you
Till the dawn is in the sky.
Whether I be false or true,
d**h comes in a day or two.