“Spring is sprung,
da grass is riz.
I wonder where da boideez iz?

Da boid iz on da wing, dey say –
but dat’s absoid.

Da wing is on da boid!”

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right.

I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty, and witty and gay,
And I pity
Any girl who isn’t me today.

if you wanna be my lover
you gotta get with my friends

You think I never see you when you jump over de wall
You think I never see you when you accidently fall
Me said a it mek, mek you pop yu bitta gall
A it mek, while you accidently fall
A it mek, hear she crying fe ice water

Ne’er cast a clout
Til May be out

If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow
Don’t be alarmed now
It’s just a spring clean
For the May queen

Your work, Dorset_Knob?

* is impressed *

Get your motor runnin’
Head out on the highway
Lookin’ for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin’ go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

I am what I am
I am my own special creation
So come take a look
Give me the hook
Or the ovation
It’s my world
That I want to have a little pride
My world
And it’s not a place I have to hide in
Life’s not worth a dam
Till I can say
I am what I am

Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin’: “Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin’,
Smiled with the risin’ sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin’ sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin’, This is my message to you-ou-ou:

Everybody in Love
Go on put your hands UP.

Your work, Dorset_Knob?

Nah, just a random picture of some tits in spring 😆

I always get this in my head this time of year. Such a happy tune. Will grab youtube link when I get home from work.

Tom Lehrer –

I’d like to take you now on wings of song, as it were, and try and help you forget perhaps for a while your drab, wretched lives. Here’s a song all about spring-time in general, and in particular, about one of the many delightful pastimes the coming of spring affords us all.

Spring is here, spring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
I do, don’t you? ‘Course you do!
But there’s one thing that makes spring complete for me,
And makes ev’ry Sunday a treat for me.

All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon,
When we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.
Ev’ry Sunday you’ll see
My sweetheart and me,
As we poison the pigeons in the park.

When they see us coming, the birdies all try an’ hide,
But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.
The sun’s shining bright,
Ev’rything seems all right,
When we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.

Lalaalaalalaladoodiedieedoodoodoo

We’ve gained notoriety,
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With our games.
They call it impiety,
And lack of propriety,
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant names.
But it’s not against any religion
To want to dispose of a pigeon.

So if Sunday you’re free,
Why don’t you come with me,
And we’ll poison the pigeons in the park.
And maybe we’ll do
In a squirrel or two,
While we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.

We’ll murder them all amid laughter and merriment.
Except for the few we take home to experiment.
My pulse will be quickenin’
With each drop of strychnine
We feed to a pigeon.
It just takes a smidgen!
To poison a pigeon in the park.

[video]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORlLFhN4QQs[/video]

We are young
We are free
Keep our teeth, nice and clean.

Had my first lunch time snooze in the sun earlier… Happy Days indeed.

Nah, just a random picture of some tits in spring

Gotta love tits in spring. 😉

Oh baby, my heart is full of love and desire for you
So come on down and do what you’ve got to do
You started this fire down in my soul
Now can’t you see it’s burning, out of control
So come down and satisfy the need in me
Cos only your good loving can set me free

Meanwhile, somewhere in the north….

“I can’t stand the rain
against my window…”

[video]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNA9rQcMq00[/video]

An alarming number of those songs above came up on my commute today when I put the music on shuffle….. 😳

Sun is shinin’ in the sky
There ain’t a cloud in sight
It’s stopped rainin’ ev’rybody’s in a play
And don’t you know
It’s a beautiful new day hey,hey

and

Throw those curtains wide
One day like this a year would see me right
Throw those curtains wide
One day like this a year would see me right for life

there’s a spider in the bathtub
a cockroach in the sink
the toilet seat is broken
chain hasn’t got a link

Red sky at night
The barn’s on fire

Tweeter and the Monkeyman were hard up for cash
They stayed up all night selling cocaine and hash
To an undercover cop who had a sister named Jan
For reasons unexplained she loved the Monkeyman.

Nothing to do with spring.. Just love the tune.

I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy
Just like all my thoughts, always get a bit naughty
When I’m out with my girls, I always play a bit bitchy
Can’t change the way I am sexy, naughty, bitchy me

Up north such trivial problems are not to be had. It is raining in Lancashire and I can see about half way across Morecambe Bay and the mountains of Cumbria are not to be seen…

Hot sticky scenes, you know what I mean
Like a desert sun that burns my skin
I’ve been waiting for her for so long
Open the sky and let her come down

Here comes the rain
Here comes the rain
Here she comes again
Here comes the rain
I love the rain
I love the rain
Here she comes again
Here comes the rain

Oh, rain
Rain
Rain
Oh, here comes the rain

I love the rain
Well, I love the rain
Here she comes again
I love the rain

Rain
Rain

Tit monday:
Ah, Tit Monday. It’s not that far off now, that glorious day when, heading into work on the bus, or walking to the Dart, or sitting on the Luas, you find yourself suddenly chirpier than you have been in months. You find yourself smiling at strangers again. There is a mild involuntary tumescence in your trousers that comes and goes throughout the morning with the comforting regularity of a heartbeat.
And then you get a text around lunchtime from a mate which says: “At last, Tit Monday!” And you instantly understand why you are so happy. For Tit Monday is that special day in the year when, for the first time, the temperature rises above that magical point which causes girls getting dressed in the morning to decide to show a bit of skin. After months of dull colours and chunky knit, the world’s birds suddenly dive into last summer’s wardrobe (they’ve not had chance to buy this season’s stuff) and chuck it on without a thought. Your urban landscape is suddenly lightened with acres of naked arm and leg and, after many dark months of burrowing, breasts rising to the surface like moles at dusk.
Big breasts in white work shirts straining at the buttons. Small breasts braless in vest tops, the nipples frotted by ribby fabrics. Breasts in summer dresses bouncing in the distance so that they catch your eye before you even notice there is someone wearing them. Breasts nudging out from the crowd at traffic islands, quivering to cross the road… and you know it is nearly summer.
For previous generations, the arrival of spring was heralded by the sound of the first cuckoo. For us, it is Tit Monday. Not that it always falls on a Monday. Like Easter, Tit Monday is a moveable feast. Last year it fell on a Friday. Friday 29 April, to be precise, when temperatures maxed out at 22.1C after nothing much above 16C all year. It last fell on a Monday in 2004, when temperatures leapt to 22C on 24 April. And then, of course, there is Tit Monday Night. You see, in early summer, temperatures drop off very dramatically when night falls (Tit Friday 2005 dropped away to a parky 11.8C). But the dollies are not prepared. Slightly stunned by the morning heat, they drag out the summer clothes but forget to bring a cardie (a mistake they will not make again until next year),so that when they’re all standing outside your local after work celebrating the arrival of spring, their barely covered nipples have no protection from the cold. It’s like a Bring-and-Buy sale where everyone has brought hat pegs. It’s like a prog-rock gig where, instead of lighters, everyone is holding up nipples. So when will Tit Monday fall this year? Will you be the first to text your mates with the announcement? Do not shoot your bolt too early. There will be false starts. You will smell fresh cut grass and see a couple of early starters and feel compelled to declare Tit Monday. But your more level-headed friends will tell you to hold your horses, keep your powder dry, don’t fire until you see the whites of their bra straps.

As the poet said: one bold slapper in a bikini doth not a summer make.