There's a story told of a little Japanese
Sitting demurely beneath 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, every day
And he taught her how to love in the American way
To love with a soul was easy to learn
And he sailed away with a promise to return
Poor Butterfly
'Neath the blossoms waiting
Poor Butterfly
For she loved him so
The moments pass into hours
The hours pass into years
And as she smiled through her tears
She murmured low
The moon and I
Knew that he'd be faithful
She knew he'd come
To her by and by
But if he n'er came back
She'd never sigh or cry
She just would die
Poor Butterfly
But if he n'er came back
She'd never sigh or cry
She just would die
Poor Butterfly
Writer(s): John Golden, Raymond Hubbell