I'm as jumpy as a 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
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 I've yet to meet
I'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 wing
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
That it might as well be spring
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 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 I've yet to meet I'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 wing But I feel so gay in a melancholy way That it might as well be spring It might as well be spring Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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