Butterfly Child , why are you always running wild. Everybody tries to catch you. Butterfly Child, won’t you ever stay a while but you fly away too fast. A flicker of light, on reflection, wings of deeper, deeper blue, glimpses of perfection, it’s you, it’s you. Oh there, now just out of sight, but I know that you wait ‘til I can almost touch you. Too late, too late. Elusive elegance, a beauty of your own. Playful eloquence but still ...
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