Oh, these ragged wings
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Oh, these papery things
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Ah but strong am I
|
I can fly and fly
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I'm the king, am I
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Earthly winds I ride for miles and miles
|
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I've been biding time
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At the over-wintering site
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Where the firs are fine
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And the mountains high
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The winter months we like
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This habitat for us is perfectly designed
|
|
Lepidopterists are pleased
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Know it took them years to find me
|
In nineteen seventy-five
|
Discovery arrived
|
In Mexico the prize
|
This is where we hide
|
But still you wonder why
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We are so dramatically inclined
|
To live this migratory life
|
|
Lives like ours rely
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On seasonal plants which die
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And soil gets too dry
|
And sunlight does grow nigh
|
We travel 'til we find
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A host by which our darling hatchlings will survive
|
|
A green tender shoot
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Asclepiads bloom
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Fragrant firework
|
Cardenolides usurp
|
Aposematics work
|
Assiduously we searched
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And though it won't be me
|
My progeny will surely see
|
Their return to the prairies
|
|
-----------------
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Following The Sun
|
Mirah |