Another Season in Chicago

The dizzing days of warm weather come,
Blazing by in a musical haze.
Annoying and inevitalbe to some,
The world around them transformed into a mystifying maze.
Waiting around in and orchestra of sound
As the heat of the sun's rays rises with the breeze.
Pound, smack, buzz, bang, boom all on the ground;
Sometimes I wish the symphony will never cease.
Many names for you do people call,
The time of year that leads to mass destruction.
Three seasons crammed into one - Spring, Summer, and Fall
Because here, only two seasons exist - Winter and Construction.