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I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm
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I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string
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I'd say that I had Spring fever
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But I know it isn't Spring
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I am starry-eyed and vaguely discontented
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Like a nightingale without a song to sing
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Oh, why should I have Spring fever
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When it isn't even Spring?
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I keep wishing I were somewhere else
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Walking down a strange new street
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Hearing words that I have never heard
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From a girl I've yet to meet
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I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams
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I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing
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I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud or a robin on the wing
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But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
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That it might as well be Spring
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It might as well be Spring
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It Might As Well Be Spring
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| Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd |