Golden butterfly dancing amongst the broken trees
Why do you cry?
Are you scared, do you feel fear?
The net draws close,
Tourquoise eyes glisten near
It's mind is haze
Fly away butterfly
Dance where I can hear.
Golden butterfly dancing amongst the broken trees Why do you cry? Are you scared, do you feel fear? The net draws close, Tourquoise eyes glisten near It's mind is haze Fly away butterfly Dance where I can hear. |
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May 12, 2006
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Comments
I like the one with broken glass better, anyway.
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Anyway, I wrote it myself. So there.
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"Old men like me don't make points. Theres' no point."
"Is that why there are no young men on the council?"
"Good point."
Who's calling who petty?
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"Old men like me don't make points. Theres' no point."
"Is that why there are no young men on the council?"
"Good point."
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