So Little Time
Their lives are brief so very brief or so it has been said
And the butterflies you see today tomorrow may be dead
So little time for making love or pleasure to enjoy
An hour to them three years to us they soon grow old and die.
An hour to them must seem a lot time for them must pass slow
But of the lives of butterflies not much I claim to know
And going by those who know about them their lives measured in hours
So little time to flit about the breezy sunlit bowers.
So little time for love affairs by tomorrow they'll be old
And they must mate and lay their eggs where flowers bloom in white and gold
Or beneath the broad leaved cabbage safe from the wind and rain
The butterflies will soon depart but their young will remain
To fly around the sunlit bowers for a day or maybe two
And find a mate and lay their eggs as Nature bid them do
And in years from now on a day in Spring a little girl and boy
Will run to their mum and dad to say we've seen a butterfly.
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