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The worst season of them all.
So according to New Zealand, it's Spring now. I hate spring, more than any other "season". Twelve months ago I tried to say why, in verse:
There must be something in the air
to make me see the world like this.
I tell you that it isn't fair -
There must be something in the air.
Her flashing eyes, her flowing hair,
Those subtle lips that tempt a kiss...
There must be something in the air
to make me see the world like this.
There must be something in the air
to make me see the world like this.
I tell you that it isn't fair -
There must be something in the air.
Her flashing eyes, her flowing hair,
Those subtle lips that tempt a kiss...
There must be something in the air
to make me see the world like this.