Beautiful Butterfly

Dying slowly on the water

with your paper wings all wet.

Floating limply after flying

in the clouds, soon you'll be dead

as your colours fade away.

It's over now, there's no more playing.

No more resting on the flowers,

no more hiding from the showers.

Day will end, the sun is red,

now all those things you can forget,

now you know there's not much to forget.

Dying slowly on the water

with your paper wings all wet.

Let me be a happy butterfly

after whom the children run.

Let me be a happy butterfly

always searching for the sun.

I know my life will end tomorrow,

there's no time for feeling sorrow

for I still see all the flowers

under which I hid from showers.

But I can't get up that high

so I dream that I can fly

and those dreams will have

to take me to the sun.

Let me be a happy butterfly

after whom the children run.

It would be a lie if I thought

a man had need of coloured wings,

to fly away from all the pain

that living seems to bring.

But today I've changed my mind

because I find that I have been blind.

I couldn't see that even you

could have life's pain and trouble too.

Now I see that all my flying

really means I wasn't trying

to find other ways to meet what life can bring.

To be alive I had not need

to use your coloured wings.