I`m as restless as a willow in a windstorm
I`m as jumpy as puppet on a string
I`d say that I had spring fever
but I know it isn`t spring
I am starry eyed and vaguely discontented
like a nightingale without a song to sing
O why should I have spring fever
when it isn`t even spring
I keep I were someone else
walking down a strange new street
And hearing words that I`ve never heard
from a men I`ve yet to meet
I`m as busy as spider spinning daydreams
I`m as giggy as a baby on a swing
I haven`t seen a crocus or a rosebud
or a robin on the wing
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
that it might as well be spring
It might as well be spring
I keep I were someone else
walking down a strange new street
And hearing words that I`ve never heard
from a men I`ve yet to meet
I`m as busy as spider spinning daydreams
I`m as giggy as a baby on a swing
I haven`t seen a crocus or a rosebud
or a robin on the wing
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
that it might as well be spring
It might as well be spring
It might as well be spring