Butterflies on the wheel

of a world that turns unyieldingly...

every fragile beating wing

moves the motor of the thing,

oh, Gaia!



Butterflies stir a breeze

and the ripples flow unceasingly:

far away the cyclones swirl.

It's a whole, connected world.

Oh, Gaia!



Wipe those tears from your tired eyes:

every breath you take a sacred sigh.



Butterflies on the wheel

making order out of chaos

and each ripple in the air

turns the motor everywhere,..



Cry those tears, then dry those tired eyes:

every breath you take keeps you alive.



Butterflies as we are

freeze in flight beneath the starry sky

but the ghosts fly on and on...

in this sense we all belong,

oh, Gaia!



And the sum of all the parts

in the all-forgiving heart

oh, Gaia.



Oh, Gaia!



(PH - Piano, Vox;

David Lord - Orchestar