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