It's April 14, I cannot get over
The fact that spring is almost here.
Build me a boat, that can carry two.
I'll bring the bait. You bring the beer.
A silver boat under cloudless skies
She's loaded down with a string of walleyes.
An old lake cabin up above Duluth
And all the furniture of our youth.
The maples bloom, also the oak.
The crocuses will soon appear
That snow last week was a little joke.
And now it's spring, I believe, my dear.
O, life is handsome, or at least, okay.
It could be worse, if you know what I mean.
We'll soon grow old and the nights get cold.
But for one week we are seventeen.
But for one week we are seventeen.