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 stɾange new stɾeet
Hearing words that I have never heard
From a girl I've yet to [C7]meet

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams
I'm as giddy as a baby on [C7]a swing
I haven't seen a crocus or a ɾosebud or a ɾobin on [C7]the wing
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
That it might as well be [Am]Spring

It might as well be [Am]Spring