It Might as Well Be Spring

I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm

I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string

I'd say that I have spring fever

But I know it isn't spring

I'm as starry-eyed and gravely discontented

Like a nightingale without a song to sing

Oh, why should I have spring fever

When I know it isn't spring?

I keep wishing I was somewhere else

Walking down a strange new street

Hearing words that I have never heard

From a man I've yet to meet

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydream

I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing

I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud

Or a robin on a 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 wishing I was somewhere else

Walking down a strange new street

I'm hearing words that I have never heard

From a man I've yet to meet

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydream

I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing

I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud

Or a robin on a wing

But I feel so gay in a melancholy way

That it might as well be spring

Oh, it might as well be spring

It might as well be spring

Oh, it might as well be, be spring