Celtic Woman The Butterfly Lyrics

The Butterfly Lyrics

This evening the moon dreams more lazily

As some fair woman, lost in
cushions deep

With gentle hand caresses listlessly

The contour of
her breasts before she sleeps

On velvet backs of avalanches soft

She often lies enraptured as she dies

And gazes on white visions
aloft

Which like a blossoming to heaven rise

When sometimes on this
globe, in indolence

She lets a secret tear drop down, by chance

A
poet, set against oblivion

Takes in his hand this pale and furtive
tear

This opal drop where rainbow hues appear

And hides it in his
breast far from the sun