| 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 |