It Might As Well Be Spring - Live At Café Au Go-Go,1964

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 have spring fever,
 But I know it isn't spring.
 I'm as starry eyed and vaguely discontented,
 Like a nightingale without a song to sing.
 Why should I have spring fever,
 When I know it isn't spring?
 I keep wishing I were somewhere else
 Walking down a strange new street,
 Hearing words that I have never heard
 From a man 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,
 Oh, that it might as well be spring.
 I keep wishing I were somewhere else
 Walking down a strange new street,
 Hearing words that I have never heard
 From a man 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.
 Oh, that it might as well be spring.