Текст песни Chumbawamba - Butterflies

Watching a butterfly Move over moorland So pretty and colourful, Wings catch the sun,Such simple beauty attracting a mate For creation of lifeFor the cycle to carry on,To carry on.Contrast the bomber that turns in the sky,Ugly and lifeless and serving no purpose,Save warAnd the politics of war,

What are wings for?They borrowed nature's skill And taught it how to kill,How to kill.So crossing their bypass and crossing their purpose,The butterfly shadowed by bomber above, Alone and distracted and thus unawareOf the butterfly collector,A butterfly collector,A butterfly collector,A butterfly collector.He-he, well, I'm outraged.
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