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