|Poor Butterfly (1916)
- There's a story of a little Japanese
- sitting demurely '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 ev'ry day
- and he taught her how to love in the 'Merican way,
- To love with her soul! 'twas easy to learn;
- Then he sailed away with a promise to return.
- Poor Butterfly!
- 'neath the blossoms waiting
- Poor Buttefly!
- For she loved him so.
- The moment pass into hours
- The hours pass into years
- And as she smiles through her tears,
- She murmurs low,
- The moon and I know that he be faithful,
- I'm sure he come to me bye and bye.
- But if he don't come back
- Then I never sigh or cry
- I must die.
- Poor Butterfly.
- "Won't you tell my love" she would whisper to the breeze
- Tell him I'm waiting 'neath the cherry blossom trees.
- My Sailor man to see.
- The bees and the humming birds say they guess,
- Ev'ry day that passes makes one day less.
- 'Till you come to me.
- For once Butterfly she gives her heart away,
- She can never love again she is his for aye.
- Through all of this world, For ages to come,
- So her face just smiles, tho' her heart is growing numb.