It’s spring; it’s spring, the birdies sing with glee
and all around creeps the columbine vine
startling some stately tree.
and all around creeps the columbine vine
startling some stately tree.
It’s spring; it’s spring, the fishes spin their tale
and swirling near streams, the wildflowers be
home for some tiny snail.
and swirling near streams, the wildflowers be
home for some tiny snail.
It’s spring; it’s spring; the valley sings its song;
squirrels in tune curl their tales at the moon
as the green grows along.
squirrels in tune curl their tales at the moon
as the green grows along.