The Butterfly
Silence comes when you're alone
And no-one can see in your eyes
The love you feel is curled up inside
Like autumn it waits for the rose
And no-one can tell you what's wrong
And no-one can tell you what's right
Your hopes seem dashed, when you're alone
September its wicked wind blows
The butterfly waited so long
Like autumn it waits for the rose
And no-one can tell you what's wrong
And no-one can tell you what's right
Autor(es): Simon Poore
