When I was young I lived in a world of dreams Of moods and myths And illusionary schemes Though now I'm much more grown up I fear that I must own up To the fact that I'm in doubt of What the modern cynics shout of
They say it's spring This feeling light as a feather They say this thing This magic we share together Came with the weather too
They say it's May That's made me daft as a daisy It's May, they say That gave the whole world this crazy Heavenly, hazy hue
I'm a lark On the wing I'm the spark Of a firefly's fling
Yet to me This must be Something more Than a seasonal thing
Could it be spring Those bells that I can hear ringing It may be spring But when the robins stop singing You're what I'm clinging to Though they say it's spring It's you
If poets sing That when a hard sympathetic It's merely spring Then poets plights are pathetic Though I'm poetic too
They say it's spring For lovers, there's where the lure is That evil thing For which September the cure is This, they are sure is true
Though I know That it's so That my fancy may Turn in the spring
With the right One in sight One can find a perpetual thing
Did I need spring To bring the ring That you bought me Though it was spring That wondrous day That you caught me
Darling I thought we knew That it wasn't spring 'Twas you