I never know what to say when I speak to a butterfly,
Your not mad at me for being mad at them for mistreating u,
Listening to her sea shells I can hear  the waves of the ocean crashing against the cliff's,
She taking deep breaths from working too much asking her why ¢ she say its because it hurt,
I was granted the privilege of her  company a long time ago now I don't sing nothing but sad songs,
I heard money brings the girls u want but the struggle brings the ones u need,
In what circumstances would it be appropriate for I to think of u while having the honor of looking at u?