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Once I was a sentimental thing, |
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Threw my heart away each spring; |
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Now a spring romance hasn't got a chance. |
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Promised my first dance to winter; |
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All I've got to show's a splinter for my little fling. |
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Spring this year has got me feeling |
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Like a horse that never left the post; |
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I lie in my room, staring up at the ceiling. |
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Spring can really hang you up the most! |
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Morning's kiss wakes trees and flowers, |
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And to them I'd like to drink a toast. |
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I walk in the park just to kill some lonely hours. |
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Spring can really hang you up the most. |
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All afternoon those birds twitter twit. |
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I know the tune: "This is love. this is it!" |
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Heard it before and I know the score, |
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And I've decided that spring is a bore! |
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Love seemed sure around the New Year, |
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Now it's April, love is just a ghost. |
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Spring arrived on time, only what became of you, dear? |
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Spring can really hang you up the most. |
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Spring can really hang you up the most. |
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Love came my way, I hoped it would last. |
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We had our day, now that's all in the past. |
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Spring came along, a season of song |
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Full of sweet promise, but something went wrong. |
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Doctors once prescribed a tonic: |
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"Sulphur and molasses" was the dose. |
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Didn't help a bit, my condition must be chronic, |
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Spring can really hang you up the most. |
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All alone, the party's over. |
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Old Man Winter was a gracious host. |
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But when you keep praying for snow to hide the clover |
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Spring can really hang you up the most |
