Lyrics
I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm,
Feeling extremely unsettled and agitated, like a willow tree swaying vigorously in a storm.
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string,
Feeling nervous and anxious, akin to a puppet being manipulated on strings.
I'd say that I had spring fever,
Experiencing symptoms similar to spring fever, though recognizing that it's not actually springtime.
But I know it isn't spring.
Acknowledging the discrepancy between feelings and the actual season, confirming it's not spring.
I'm as starry eyed and gravely discontented,
Feeling both romantic and profoundly dissatisfied, akin to a nightingale unable to sing.
Like a nightingale without a song to sing.
Expressing a sense of longing or incompleteness, similar to a bird without a song.
Oh, why should I have spring fever,
Questioning the reason for experiencing spring-like emotions when it's not the season for it.
When it isn't even spring?
Highlighting the irony of feeling spring fever when springtime hasn’t arrived.
I keep wishing I were somewhere else,
Desiring to be in a different place, wishing for a change of scenery.
Walking down a strange new street,
Imagining oneself walking in an unfamiliar location or situation.
Hearing words I have never never heard,
Anticipating hearing new, unfamiliar words from someone not yet encountered.
From a man I've yet to meet.
Expecting to meet someone entirely unknown and hearing their words.
I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,
Feeling very active mentally, akin to a spider weaving intricate daydreams.
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing,
Feeling excited and lightheaded, similar to a baby on a swing.
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud,
Not having seen typical signs of spring like flowers or birds.
Or a robin or a bluebird on the wing,
Noticing the absence of typical signs of spring in the environment.
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way,
Feeling happy in a contradictory way—cheerful yet melancholic, despite the absence of spring.
That it might as well be spring,
Expressing that the emotions resemble those typically associated with spring, despite the actual season.
It might as well be, might as well be,
Reiterating that the feelings are so intense that they might as well be attributed to spring.
It might as well be spring.
Emphasizing again that the emotions closely resemble those felt during springtime.
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