The flutters the flys,
When I look in your eyes.
It is good like flowers,
It's nothing too sour.
The flitters the flaps,
When our hands are clasped.
All of those moments,
I forget time has passed.
We fly all day,
That's just the way,
To live your life,
So just don't gripe.
Sometimes we sit on a branch all day,
And do nothing but sway.
But in the end we want to fly,
And know one needs to know why.
When I look at you,
I wonder sometimes,
Do you feel them too?
Those fluttering butterflies?
