Fly, fly away little butterfly
'cause the storm is coming in your way
and if a little breeze caught you
it may lead you to your death
...
For heaven to be created
There's gotta be a Hell
And sometimes, with such a shame
They both coexist in the same place
...
Bailo con la Muerte, que me corteja con su canto embellecedor.
Hablo con su madre, Tierra Santa, que me da vida cada día.
Con su padre, Señor del Tiempo.
Quien ha de decirme día a día.
...
Ni a las aguas,
tan turbulentas y frías,
se les llama de mal gusto
...
you are
like a flower's petal
beautiful and soft to the touch
but you have clearly been plucked out from your whole.
...