The Butterfly Rhapsody

In the bar one night, a girl with golden hair,

Sat down at the piano, and clear notes filled the air,

I'd never heard that kind of tune, played before, you see,

I asked her what it was, and she said, "The Butterfly Rhapsody,"

I sat back and listened to the song that she tapped out,

Sometimes slow and soft, sometimes fast, and loud,

The music filled my ears, the music filled the bar,

And all my worries blew away, to someplace very far,

I couldn't find a hint of them, or anything else too bad,

But that girl played that baby grand with everything she had,

And when the last note fluttered through the room on silken wings,

That golden haired girl stood on the stage, and she started to sing,

And if her piano playing was like silver turned to sound,

Her singing made the silver look like something dull, and brown,

Her golden hair and pale skin, were no match for her voice,

I found myself entranced by her, her song, and her poise,

But when the last word of her song, escaped her lovely lips,

I awoke from my dream, in the bar, starting to come to grips,

Reality was settling in, and I looked up, just to see,

A golden haired girl, at the piano, playing The Butterfly Rhapsody

The End

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