Kind, Kind, Kind.
Kind to the people,
Kind to the world,
Kind to anyone but yourself.

Stuck in a passageway, never in a room,
Never with someone who can understand you.
A glimpse of light, of you being truthful,
And then the door closes, you’re left behind again.

Do you know them?
Do they know you?
Would they bother, would they care?
If they really knew who you were?

Your voice is an echo, there’s no sound,
Nothing of yours, are these even your thoughts?
Trying is hard, fearing what you are,
They’ll know one day, they’ll be told by the scars.

You’re kind aren’t you?
Kind, kind, kind.
Kind to the people,
Kind to the world,
Kind to anyone but the ones who matter.

You have nothing, you are nothing.
Empty eyes, empty heard.
What good is your love,
When you can’t even love.

You are so wise aren’t you?
Your words are never wrong,
You know the world and they don’t,
Isn’t that your whole thing, isn’t that who you are?

Stuck in a passageway, never in a room,
You only fit in, when you’re mute,
It’s okay, It’s fine.
You’ll try when the time’s right.

What regrets, what meanings?
Aren’t you just deceiving yourself with what’s not true?
I hope the dead cannot see the world,
I hope she cannot see what you’ve become.

You can’t bother trying,
So why want it at all?
What point are you trying to make?
Too afraid, too tired?
You didn’t even try.

Kind, kind, kind
Kind to the people,
Kind to the world,
Kind to anyone but the one who knows you.

There was once a butterfly,
who flapped her wings.
She was unique, she was beautiful,
and she wanted to die from within.

She was but a child,
she had only known so little,
she had barely learnt how to fly,
so why was she abtucted from the night sky?

The clouds overshadowed the sun,
Rain fell, even though it was summer.
She seeked a shelter, a place to be in,
She hoped for someone to listen.

There was once a butterfly,
who flapped her wings.
She was unique, she was beautiful,
and she wanted to die from within.

She was different, the winds said,
so the world hated her, the clouds wept.
She wanted to fly to the end of the world,
where they’d be no one to judge, no one to fear.

Why didn’t you hear,
the song of misery the wings carried.
Why didn’t you save her,
And listen to her despair?

There was once a butterfly,
who flapped her wings.
She was unique, she was beautiful,
and she wanted to die from within.

She had reached it,
the end of the world.
There was no to judge,
No one to fear.

So she could fly freely,
so no one hated her,
so she had a saviour,
and not a guy who couldn’t save her.

There was once a butterfly,
who flapped her wings.
She was unique, she was beautiful,
and she wanted to live from within.