Standing here
In front of this window
Looking down below
Wondering when the snow
Is ever going to melt
Doesn't look like a green-belt
It may start to feel like spring
The birds might start to come out to sing
Nothing like the real thing
The months when wedding bells ring
June, July, August, too
Something borrowed
Something blue
Something old
Something new
Fields of green
As far as you've ever seen
And skies as blue
As there ever was blue
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