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