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A moth is not a butterfly |
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And I know why, I know why |
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It kind of makes you want to cry |
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That a moth is not a butterfly |
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But some are happy in the bluest sky |
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And others search in the dark of night |
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And sadness is a silent right |
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A moth is not a butterfly |
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A stone is not a grain of sand |
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It's hard, I guess, to understand |
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Both broken parts scatter the land |
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A stone is not a grain of sand |
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And one has lived for longer still |
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The other longs to break until |
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The wind can lift it in its hand |
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A stone is not a grain of sand |
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A desert's not a mountainside |
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And I know why, I know why |
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'cause one is vast and one divides |
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A desert's not a mountainside |
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'cause one has need for open space |
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The other simply in its place |
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It must be known far and wide |
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That a desert's not a mountainside |
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A moth is not a butterfly |
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And I know why, I know why |
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It kind of makes you want to cry |
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That a moth is not a butterfly |
