Poor Butterfly

There’s a story told of a little Japanese
Sitting demurely ‘neath the cherry blossom trees
Miss Butterfly her name
A sweet little innocent child was she
‘Til a fine young American from the sea
To her garden came

They met ‘neath the cherry blossoms, every day
And he taught her how to love in the American way
To love with a soul was easy to learn
And he sailed away with a promise to return

Poor Butterfly
‘Neath the blossoms, waiting
Poor Butterfly
For she loved him so
The moments pass into hours
The hours pass into years
And as she smiled through her tears
She murmured low

The moon and I
Knew that he’d be faithful
She knew he’d come
To a by and by
But if he ne’er came back
She’d never sigh or cry
She just would die
Poor Butterfly

But if he ne’er came back
She’d never sigh or cry
She just would die
Poor Butterfly