Spring. A nagging cold. Spring. The sun shines again. And I warm my legs. Spring. I go out and play again. Spring. I can't sit at home. Spring. I love spring. What are the cats in my courtyard singing about? No. No. No. No. I wont get to sleep. Spring. Don't heat up beer anymore. Spring. The grass will come up soon. Spring. You'll see how beautiful it is. Spring. Where is my head?
Warm beer up? That has to be some idiom. Or was Viktor one of those BEER = ILLNESS folks?