Butterfly Clan - Pale Forest

When we were young and regarded the world with hope

we came to feel pretty soon the burning of the rope

The cosmos grew far too vast, our faces turned to stone

engraved by sleepless nights and the chilling of the bone

We turned to the wings on the soft summer breeze

small butterflies

Melting all hearts disillusion tried to freeze

small butterflies

Like the old Stonehenge rocks

our circle praised the sun

A huge canvas to warm us by the golden goddess spun

We turned to the wings on the soft summer breeze

small butterflies

Melting all hearts disillusion tried to freeze

small butterflies