Iâ²m as restless as a willow in a windstorm
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string
Iâ²d 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
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 girl Iâ²ve yet to meet
Iâ²m as busy as a spider spinning daydreams
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing
I havenâ²t 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
(Musixmatch status: error!)
