we take the signs of spring and call them grand
each knows they'll weep some day to see them pass
immortal symbols set by mortal hand
words tell us little but they have to stand
for all our knowledge of the wind on grass
we take the signs of spring and call them grand
since each bright sigil comes at sun's command
and all together form a joyous mass
immortal symbols set by mortal hand
reflection of the heart sprung from the land
for one short season then they're gone alas
we take the signs of spring and call them grand
inadequate the words so brief and bland
lacking in strength and grace like so much gas
immortal symbols set by mortal hand
need so much more for sentiments they fanned
their colours cannot stay within the glass
we take the signs of spring and call them grand
immortal symbols set by mortal hand