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The Butterfly Raiser Lyrics
Where the history of my land
Meets a spot of green surrounded by a shade of hazel
There, a faun plays with the air,
The magic of the mountain,
He told me that he tastes
The sweet and sour taste
Of the rainy clouds a-coming
And he told me not to be too sad when the storm comes.
Life is frail, it’s a creature to protect, he said,
In your hands,
Like a pair of wings made out of dreams.
He, he was a butterfly raiser,
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
And we’re running through the fields,
Through the centuries and the years.
No, no matter all the pain,
The struggle deep inside
And people saying you can’t make it coz,
One day you’ll spread your wings
And then you’ll fly away.
Life is frail, it’s a creature to protect, he said,
In your hands,
Like a pair of wings made out of dreams.
He, he was a butterfly raiser,
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
And we’re running through the fields,
Through the centuries and the years.
(Butterfly raiser)
He, he was a butterfly raiser,
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
And we’re running through the fields,
Through the centuries and the years.
Meets a spot of green surrounded by a shade of hazel
There, a faun plays with the air,
The magic of the mountain,
The sweet and sour taste
Of the rainy clouds a-coming
And he told me not to be too sad when the storm comes.
In your hands,
Like a pair of wings made out of dreams.
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
Through the centuries and the years.
The struggle deep inside
And people saying you can’t make it coz,
One day you’ll spread your wings
And then you’ll fly away.
In your hands,
Like a pair of wings made out of dreams.
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
Through the centuries and the years.
And he’s running with his hair in the wings
To finally be back home,
Yeah he, he was a butterfly raiser,
Through the centuries and the years.
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I think this song essentially is comparing the frailty & preciousness of life with that of a butterfly. How we need to protect & hone it's core so that it doesn't consume our spirits. Even when life gets its darkest we must remember that it's like a butterfly & we must treat it as so & be gentle with it as it is a gift.