Karrin Allyson
It Might as Well Be Spring
I'm as restless as a willow in a windstormI'm as jumpy as a puppet on a stringI'd say that I had spring feverBut I know it isn't springI am starry eyed and vaguely discontentedLike a nightingale without a song to singO why should I have spring feverWhen it isn't even springI keep wishing I were somewhere elseWalking down a strange new streetHearing words that I've never headFrom a man I've yet to meetI'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreamsI'm as giddy as a baby on a swingI haven't seen a crocus or a rosebudOr a Robin on the wingBut I feel so gay in a melancholy wayThat it might as well be springIt might as well beSpring
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