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 had spring fever
But I know it isn't springI am starry-eyed and vaguely discontented
Like a nightingale without a song to sing
Oh, why should I have spring fever
When it isn't even spring?I keep wishing, I were somewhere else
Walking down a strange new street
Hearing words that I have never heard
From a man, I've yet to meetI'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud
Or a robin on the wingBut 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 were somewhere else
Walking down a strange new street
Hearing words that I have never heard
From a man, I've yet to meetI'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud
Or a robin on the wingBut I feel so gay in a melancholy way
That it might as well be spring
It might as well be spring