It's there in the woods.
As I child I could, see down where the deer ate dying grass and hear when the starving robins asked.
Where's the
Spring?
Met with the mightiest change in the breeze, and with that wind in mind, there's the truth, beyond by the crick lies the memory of youth.
Right out of the blue, a frost came to abuse, down where the deer ate the dying grass, near where the starving robins asked.
Where's the
Spring?
Met with the mightiest change in the breeze and with that wind in mind, there's the truth, beyond by the crick lies the memory of youth.
Where's the
Spring?
Like a light is to dark there's an end to this thing, and with that end in mind, there's the truth, beyond by the crick lies the ghost of my youth.


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