It Might as Well Be Spring — текст песни (Nina Simone)

(1945) richard rodgers, oscar hammerstein ii



The things I used to like, I dont like any more,

I want a lot of other things Ive never had before,

Its just like my mamma says, I sit around and mourn

Pretending that I am so wonderful and knowing Im adored



Im as restless as a willow in a windstorm,

Im as jumpy as a puppet on a string,

Id say that I had spring fever,

But I know it isnt spring.



Im as starry eyed and gravely discontented,

Like a nightingale without a song to sing.

Oh, why should I have spring fever,

When it isnt even spring?



I keep wishing I were somewhere else,

Walking down a strange new street,

Hearing words I have never never heard,

From a man Ive yet to meet.



Im as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,

Im as giddy as a baby on a swing,

I havent seen a crocus or a rosebud,

Or a robin or a bluebird on the wing,

But I feel so gay in a melancholy way,

That it might as well be spring,

It might as well be, might as well be,

It might as well be spring.