Am I a moth, or am I a myth
Of this I’m having doubt
I’ve lived all my life in a closet
But now I’m coming out

I really am a mixed-up moth
I flap about all night
Heading for the ceiling
Because I’ve seen the light

All wrapped up inside myself
When I was a cocoon
But now I’m out and flying
To insults I’m immune

Humans try to swat me
And knock me to the floor
Then scoop me up on paper
To throw me out the door

But I am having none of this
I twist and turn in flight
Straight out through the window
Into the cold dark night

They roll a big round stone at me
For eating all their cloth
But everybody knows
‘ Rolling stones gather no Moth ! ‘