Drag those hoses when the weather is dry
April’s grass is paling, and oak leaves wither
All the new plantings cry for a drink of water
And the rains of winter have now retired
Drag those hoses when the morning is dry
Everyone wants some sort of validation:
A job, encouragement, a little support
For now, we just have to get on with life
Drag those hoses when the evening is dry
And pray for sweet rain from the reluctant sky
(Or maybe dragon hoses; I wrote this on St. George’s Day)