Flight of the Butterfly

O, Butterfly!

Perched up so high

On a branch of the oyamel tree

You love to fly

Three thousand miles south

across hazy valleys and peaks

But the ground doesn’t care

The ground doesn’t share

And the ground wants the sky to itself

So, Butterfly

You better fly

And find another place to dwell

   Find some other trees

Swaying in the breeze

You might have to fly across the dell.

Oh well, butterfly!

You better fly

And find another place to dwell