Tis Spring
(Rich Mullins)
'Tis Spring! And the snow is going away.
But, patches linger still, like an echoing prayer in an empty stone church smoky gray.
Daddy's gone to town. The roads are open now. Mamma's sure that he'll get through.
He's coming back with supplies... and, maybe surprises for me and you!
The grass is all dead and brown. But, it will soon begin to sing its hymns.
The mules will soon be hitched to the plow.
Brother cleans the barn. There's a robin in the yard busy building his Summer home.
And, he'll keep whistlin' tunes, callin' flowers into bloom, so he won't have to sing alone.
And, all us little indians with dirty feet and untucked shirts...
And, all us little indians, who scrape our knees and laugh off the hurt...
We're driving grandma crazy wantin' to play out all our dreams.
And, what a time is Spring!
And, love, like a sucklin' baby calf,
Well, it sure kept us warm the whole Winter long. Now it'll put green back in the grass.
We'd all snuggle up tight when the chill of the night tried to sneak in under our quilts.
And grandpa'd read us 'bout what he believed. I remember how good it felt.
And, it's Spring! And the Summer will soon be back!
With the feel of the sun on our skin as we run,
Oh, I surely can't wait for that!
You and I'll be goin' wild, runnin' barefoot to the creek!
As soon as we're allowed, we'll be out of this house; and grandma can have her some peace.
And, all us little indians with dirty feet and untucked shirts...
And, all us little indians, who scrape our knees and laugh off the hurt...
We're driving grandma crazy wantin' to play out all our dreams.
And, what a time is Spring!
You were there, with your straw-yellow hair tanglin', danglin' in the wind!
Just a Summer ago, well, we both got to know what it could mean to be friends.
We were up in the trees with our secrets to keep and hiding places left to go.
And, what came in between us will die when the Spring brings its dreams for us to follow!
And, all us little indians with dirty feet and untucked shirts...
And, all us little indians, who scrape our knees and laugh off the hurt...
We're driving grandma crazy wantin' to play out all our dreams.
And, what a time is Spring!
What a time.. it's Spring.
©richmullinsongs
