An ancient story once been told And saved within a page For centuries; yet now it's bound to burn, We've set the stage: No trial as such - a single match and off you go, no strings attached Black butterflies a paper ash appearing swiftly, in a flash - They're prowling; Still prowling while scorching wind is howling Black butterflies are on my sleeve, These signs of guilt would never leave They're burning, still burning, ascending yet returning ♪ We've been created from above yet governed from below So how on earth we're better off - ALL RISE! - the less we know? A sudden turn but we're not concerned: As long as books are being burned Black butterflies a paper ash appearing swiftly, in a flash - They're prowling; still prowling While scorching wind is howling Black butterflies are on my sleeve, These signs of guilt would never leave They're burning, still burning, ascending - returning Black butterflies are on my hands, This sort of madness never ends, Not ever. Forever we'll bear this cross together