The Butterfly Raiser

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.