"I get sick of just about everyone
And I hide in my baby’s arms
I will never ever ever be alone
‘Cause it’s all in my baby’s hands
Shiny, shiny secret stones
In my baby’s hands"
-Kurt Vile-
For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.