there’s a small boy standing on the corner
he sheds his coat and dries his eyes;
spring makes one feel as if they can fly,
but no one here has ever tried.

with eyes to the sky
he sets his face like a flint
and pins his hopes on the rising sun
spring makes one feel as if they can fly,
but no one here has ever tried.

there is spring beneath the black edge of snow
there is spring among the rust and the smoke
a ragged old robin is the first to come home
and wait for the promise of spring.
color arrives just in time to remind us
there is the promise of spring.

there’s a young man standing in the corner
i knew him well though we rarely spoke.
he laughs at the punch line his life has become,
but no one dare tells the joke.

there’s a young man standing in the corner
with the vacant stare of an old man’s eyes
spring makes one feel as if they can fly,
but no one here has ever tried.

there is spring beneath the black edge of snow
there is spring among the rust and the smoke
a ragged old robin is the first to come home
and wait for the promise of spring.
color arrives just in time to remind us
there is the promise of spring.

©2011 Pale Yellow Music/ASCAP