Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.
They keep soaring.
They glide beautifully, slowly.
But with your approach, they reach a frenzy.
I try to stop them.
Put them in a net.
Shove them in a jar.
Throw them out of my eyes.
And have them tumble far.
But they glide beautifully. Slow.
They flutter frantically when you're close.
I shout at them. Scream.
Beg them to be quiet.
Viciously try to suppress their riot.
They won't listen. No matter what I do.
They just keep trying to fly to you.
Then they're still.
For that second.
Then you touch me.
And they dance, sing - go crazy.
They fly our through my eyes and into yours.
So when I finally look up, slowly,
your eyes are glowing.