My soul is made of—what do you guess? Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies When Spring says, "Come!"—all of me says, "Yes" Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies When Summer comes—in the sun I stretch. Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies Oh! Autumn he is a changeful wretch. Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies Even in Winter there's no repose, Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies I lust for it ALL, and so it goes, Fleur-de-Lis and Butterflies. |