The winter's been harsh, the winter's been long.
Still it's only march and I can't hear the song.
To have spring fever, you need to be a believer.
This winter's been harsh and this winter's been long.
Shovel's and sneezes are the call of the day.
Please hand me a kleenex, it's two month's until May.
We're out, well I guess I'll just use my sleeve or.
Man if I had my way I certainly wouldn't stay.
White winds wailing where weeds wait wondering.
If the God's will ever restart thier thundering.
Or if they have just slammed down the reciever.
In disgust of all of mankinds plundering.
Faith in the four season's is our only stronghold.
Waiting for the story of sping to still be told.
Hoping the book of knowledge is not a deciever.
Our spirit's are shaken and we dare not be too bold.
For the spring fever contest/ ballad