‪Why do you still give me butterflies when your six feet under the earth?‬
‪Why do you still tell me lies when you are suffocating in dirt?‬
‪Why do you haunt me even tho you’re dead?‬
‪How are you still in my head?‬
‪You may have died but my love for you did not - and I hate that.‬
‪Why do you still give me butterflies?‬
‪Do you hear me cry?‬
‪Where do you hide?‬
‪Why do you still give me butterflies?‬
‪All you gave me were a bunch of lies‬
‪As I dig up up thе dirt,‬
‪As I pull up the earth,‬
‪I wonder why I still hurt,‬
‪As I starе into your dead eyes,‬
‪I ask you,‬
‪Why do you still give me butterflies?‬
‪Why are you my demise?‬
‪After all this time you still give me butterflies.‬
‪Even tho you’re dead inside,‬
‪Even tho deep under is where you hide.‬