A band of angels coming after me, coming for to carry me home

Butterflies into the skies. And each one is different. People say we would look like ants if there was a giant looking at us, but I would say we are more like pigeons, that we squawk and scatter and pick at things. But we are not industrious like ants; oh no, we laze around and scheme of ways to get things with minimal effort on our part. We do not work as one, we fight. And perhaps that is better, for if we did what the queen commanded, and worked and did not care for our own lives, we would not be unique, and that is one of the most important qualities to me. I wonder how those poor ants get on. 

Title Quote: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot