Thursday, October 10, 2024

Butterfly on Paper

 

Life is short, if you doubt me, ask a butterfly. Their average life span is a mere five to fourteen days. But on paper, things can live forever. On paper, a butterfly never dies.


Lyric

[Verse 1]

Life is short like a fleeting sigh. Ask a butterfly before it’s bye bye
Five to fourteen days it flies high. But on paper it’ll never die

[Verse 2]

In the sky they flutter away. In books they eternally stay
Words with wings hold the sway. On paper they won’t decay

[Chorus 1]

Butterfly on paper lives forever. Even when time cuts the tether
On fragile wings there's no sever. In ink they float unbound endeavor

[Bridge 1]

Ephemeral in the breeze up high. But immortal in the lines I write
A flash of color before goodbye. On paper forever a permanent sight

[Verse 2’]

In the sky they flutter away. In books, in book they eternally stay
In books they eternally stay. Words with wings hold the sway.

[Verse 2’’]

In the sky they flutter away. In books they eternally away.
In the sky they flutter away. In books they eternally stay.

[Chorus 2]

Butterfly on paper lives forever. Even when time cuts the tether
On fragile wings there's no sever. In ink they float unbound endeavor

Butterfly on paper lives forever. Even when time cuts the tether
On fragile wings there's no sever. In ink they float unbound endeavor

[Bridge 2]

Ephemeral in the breeze up high. But immortal in the lines I write
A flash of color before goodbye. On paper forever a permanent sight

Ephemeral in the breeze up high. But immortal in the lines I write
A flash of color before goodbye. On paper forever a permanent sight

Ephemeral in the breeze up high. But immortal in the lines I write
A flash of color before goodbye. On paper forever a permanent sight
On paper forever a permanent sight.

[Verse 3]

Moments vanish under the sun. But in stories flight is never done
Their legacy just begun. In written words they still run

[Verse 4]

So when you doubt life’s fleeting spin. Remember paper captures skin
Of butterflies that might have been. Ink covers what’s deep within.




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