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.