Fading butterflies

Is that what happens to beauty
They are and tomorrow they are not
It is the way of the seasons

I wore high heels like on wheels
And sped like i’m high on weeds
Is that what happens to beauty

Guess you get away with youth
Blow your trumpet as loud
They are and tomorrow they are not

I realised the only way up is down
You have to die to rise again
It is the way of the seasons

Beauty sings a vain song
Soundtracks of a fading drum
The seasons are more stable

A season is sure to come by year
Whirl a wind, pour rain or snow, but
Beauty sings a vain song

The ankles survive but a few seasons
Even the shoes outlive the bones
Soundtracks of a fading drum

When a wrinkle appears, it stays
When a leaf falls, it grows back
The seasons are more stable.

Bose and LARDO