Once there was a thing called spring,
When the world was writing verses like yours and mine.
All the lads and girls would sing,
When we sat at little tables and drank may wine.
Now april, may, and june are sadly out of tune,
Life has stuck a pin in the balloon.
Spring is here! why doesnít my heart go dancing?
Spring is here! why isnít the waltz entrancing?
No desire, no ambition leads me,
Maybe itís because nobody needs me?
Spring is here! why doesnít the breeze delight me?
Stars appear! why doesnít the night invite me?
Maybe itís because nobody loves me,
Spring is here, I hear!