Is it natural to dislike a moth yet like a butterfly?
Mojito flavoured beer helps the spring birds sing
I'm sat yet floating in the last rays of spring sunshine
Remembering when I was yours and you were mine.

Memories gratify, whilst faults grate
Did you love me or the butterfly within?
I hear my scoff at this thought, I'm more moth you see
Butterflies capitalise on their pretty lies.

You fell for the pretty lies
You fell for the pretty wings
You fell for the notoriety being with a butterfly brings
You fell for the purposes of the accident report

So, I guess I dislike myself, since I am more moth
I froth at this revelation, come late this spring sun
Applesauce faults gloss over the fact that I the moth
Will morph into butterfly come summer.