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swing that big splitting maul high
up up into the winter night sky

two hundred year old maple blocks in my axe sight
see those wooden hogs pop-then shatter by a tika's funky light

something about busting up a big old sugar block
can make the hands move on that damn clock

counting the minutes till the glorious time
we can cut it up and lay down a new line

I am tired of waiting hoping and praying
for Ullr to take mercy-that's what I'm saying

Let's throw off this curse and put it to rest
we can ski it fine-as best as the rest

we just need on last thing to fall from the sky
so we can put the chores away-and say goodbye

to those skier's damn snow crazy blues
come on Ullr-I ask you....haven't we paid our feakin' dues?

-Anxious in VT

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