The Butterfly In Me
And I don’t think about sorrow.
My soul as light as butterfly,
Which can present to world fine morrow.
I sing a song of life and love,
I dance a dance of happy smile.
My house is that blue above,
Where I will never, hope, know bile.
I am so happy to be free,
To feel this breath of Spanish night.
My good fortune is kind with me.
It’s not my weakness, it’s my might.
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