I have a fortune I would like you to read, because feelings are a beautiful creation,
it's all right to have butterflies in your stomach, just get them to fly in formation,
what I lacked in education, I made up for with admiration,
tell me to keep the butterflies in, without a true explanation.
Allow the butterflies, then they can be free,
I would double propose, down on both knees,
that these feelings are real, only the King can decree,
I would love to oppose heaven, beginning with one c, ending deep in the sea.
Sad of nothing at the present, foggy of anything happening up ahead,
sick of mental messiness, if you do not see me I fled,
ran up that horizon to the stars, wishing grounded is something I dread,
allow the butterflies, allow the happiness to spread.