His mamma took the training wheels off of his bike,
So he could ride and train on his own.
He found a fuzzy one, down by the creek,
Put her in a jar and took her home.

His mamma said: "Let's poke a few holes in the tap
Soon she'll make it out of her coccoon.
Son when you think, you've done it all,
There'll be one last thing to do:

Let her go so she can be
What the Good Lord made her soul to be.
She was born to fly so high:
She's a beautiful, beautiful butterfly...
All you gave her a real good start,
Now take the lid off her heart."

Forty years came and went like a flash,
That litte boy's hair was a little grey.
Standing all alone in an empty room:
Starla left for college today.

He remembers how he taught her to walk,
How to sing, how to pray, tell the truth.
He always did the best he could,
Now there's one last thing to do:

Let her go so she can be
What the Good Lord made her soul to be.
She was born to fly so high:
She's a beautiful, beautiful butterfly...
All he gave her a real good start,
Now take the lid off her heart.

All he gave her a real good start:
She's got wings on her heart.

("Take the lid of her heart
Just watch her fly
Take the lid of her heart
Down to train on her own
Take the lid of her heart
His beautiful butterly...")