
Cold feet wearing off,
the buds are ready to pop
spring is almost here.

Cold feet wearing off,
the buds are ready to pop
spring is almost here.

Blending of colours,
the making of an artist—
a winter sunrise.

On, we yearn to fly,
our pasts are a bit blurry;
rain drops on windows.

Dreaming of the skies
we run amongst giant trees
felling them for gains.