Some pagan thing at nine

First Sunday, post full moon,
After the first day of spring
Is how they say Easter attunes
To eggs, rabbits, and other things

An authentic life starts at nine.

Spring is already at hand
And summer's getting closer.
Tonight's show is about REAL bands
And not just some old poseur.

It's Spring! Hahahaha

This winter was one that was not
It wasn't just warm; it was hot
But there's a new thing
That we're calling spring
So we'll watch and see what it's got.

Green beer ban starts at nine.

Everyone's Irish on Saint Patrick's day
Strange genealogy found in ad-hoc.
Ask them who the PM is; what do they say?
(They don't! Enda Kenny's actually the Taoiseach.)

As for snakes and for shamrocks, I don't give a damn.
My grandfather marched as a proud Orangeman.

Hum along at nine. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.

Robert Sherman wrote songs that get stuck in your head
And now he can't do that because he is dead.

Some kind of wonderful at nine

A theme? What is that?
I don't have any idea
In the meantime--dance!

Many surprises at nine

I have no theme, and that's okay

After a long and tedious day

Why give that kind of hint away

For all the things I'm going to play?