I’m dreaming of a butterfly,
Pure white.
And all it desires is freedom,
Carved deep in its soul.
So why should we lock them in a cage,
And think we need to fix their broken wings?
I’m dreaming of a butterfly,
Pure white.
And all it desires is freedom,
Carved deep in its soul.
So why should we lock them in a cage,
And think we need to fix their broken wings?
