I remember, maybe not remember...
But I felt a flying love
I moth, maybe a butterfly
It's a bug, but like a dove.

Nothing is worse that waking up
In cold sweat in the night
Because we haven't learned the lessons
that helped us see up late at night.

Now I spend so time, in  bug built land at eve
Because bugs have much shorter life
I'm sure they have a way to grieve.