Put old winter in the closet; he wears too many clothes
Take down the snow fence; put up the cows
Sweet spring I smell her, the musk of her thighs
With her feet in the muck, and her hair in the skies
I was thinkin' about my hundred old lovers
How we'd weave the cloth of our sleep, how we'd kick off the covers
But where you've all gone to I'll never know
And maybe there were only 50 or so

May you find great apartments with very low rent
May you always have a friend when your money is spent
May your parents live long; may your debts all be paid
May your clothes fit you right; may you all be well laid
May you all get great jobs; may you travel in France
May your cars always start; may you have hot romances
May your children be sturdy; may you swim in the sea
May you smile a little if you think of me

I'm so happy; spring's come back again
I am so horny; I would love to see you all again
But where you've all gone to I'll never know
And maybe there were only twenty or so