There's a story told of a little Japanese Sitting demurely beneath the cherry blossom trees Miss bu*terfly her name A sweet little innocent child was she Till a fine young American from the sea To her garden came They met 'neath the cherry blossoms, every day And he taught her how to love in the American way To love with a soul was easy to learn And he sailed away with a promise to return 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 smiled through her tears She murmured low The moon and I Knew that he'd be faithful She knew he'd come To a by and by But if he n'er came back She'd never sigh or cry She just would die Poor bu*terfly But if he n'er came back She'd never sigh or cry She just would die Poor bu*terfly