Sylvia Telles
It Might as Well Be Spring
I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm, I'm as jumpy as puppet on a stringI'd say that I had spring fever, but I know it isn't springI am starry eyed and vaguely discontented, like a nightingale without a song to singO why should I have spring fever, when it isn't even springI keep I were someone else, walking down a strange new streetAnd hearing words that I've never heard from a girl I've yet to meetI'm as busy as spider spinning daydreams, spinning spinning daydreamsI'm as giggy as a baby on a swingI haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud, or a robin on the wingBut I feel so gay in a melancholy way, that it might as well be springIt might as well be spring.
From Letras Mania