My butterfly came from a twilight wood
And she took the wind
She took the wind
And she took the evening too
For in the night
Where dew-drops have a name
And they drop from the Bella-Donna
Giving each drop its own name
And your name shall be Morning Star
You are the next in council
And suffer a fallen scar
And your name shall be "Of Serpent"
You gave intelligence and brought Light
To my butterfly
Fly now, when Autumn brings the cold
And take the wind
Take the wind
To a Grave of violent gold
For this day
This threshold of your love
Ill cut your wings
Ill cut your wings
And Ill save them in a book.