I am the butterfly, that once,

Floated just out of reach of you,

The hunter with the net.

You never once swung at me, hunter,

You stayed were you were, and waited,

For me to come to you

You turned your net away, sometimes,

And I'd flutter past your hands,

Then you’d hunt me again.

This is our little game we play,

So you hunt the right butterfly,

I want you hunting me.