• Butterflies are white and blue
    In this field we wander through
    Suffer me to take your hand
    Death comes in a day or two

    All the things we ever knew
    Will be ashes in that hour:
    Mark the transient butterfly
    And 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

    Death comes in a day or two emotion_bigheart