Poor Butterfly

There's a story told of a little Japanese

Sitting demurely â€~neath the cherry blossom trees

Miss Butterfly her name, a sweet little innocent child was she

Till 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 there 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 n'er came back, she'd never sigh or cry

She just would die, poor Butterfly

But if he n'er came back, she'd never sigh or cry

She just would die, poor Butterfly