Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spring Spring Spring, artist - Bing Crosby. Album song The Complete London Sessions, in the genre Традиционный джаз
Date of issue: 18.04.1999
Record label: Parlophone
Song language: English
Spring Spring Spring |
Well now, the barnyard is busy, in a regular tizzy |
And the obvious reason is because of the season |
Ma Nature’s lyrical with her yearly miracle |
Spring, spring, spring |
All the henfolk are hatchin', while their menfolk are scratchin' |
To ensure the survival of each brand new arrival |
Each nest is twittering, they’re all babysittering |
Spring, spring, spring |
Why, it’s a beehive of budding son and daughter life |
Every family has plans in view |
Even down in the brook, the underwater life |
Is forever blowin' bubbles too |
Little skylarks are larking, see them all double-parking |
Cuddled up, playin’possum, they’re behind ev’ry blossom |
Even the bubble-ink is merrily wobble-ink |
Spring, spring, spring |
In his hole, though the gopher seems a bit of a loafer |
The industrious beaver puts it down to spring fever |
While there’s no antelope who feels that he can’t elope |
Spring, spring, spring |
Each cocoon has a tenant, so they hung out a pennant |
Don’t disturb please, keep waiting, we’re evacuating |
This home’s my mama’s isle, soon have my own domicile |
Spring, spring, spring |
Even out in Australia, the kangaroos |
Lay off butter fat and all French fries |
If their offspring are large, it might be dan-ga-roos |
Why, they’ve just got to keep them pocket-size |
Even though, to detract, spring is more like a habit |
Not withstanding, the fact is they indulge in the practice |
Why, each day is Mother’s Day the next day some other’s day |
Spring, spring, spring |
To itself, each amoeba softly glows |
While the proud little termite fills his life as a worm might |
Old papa dragonfly is makin' his wagon fly |
It’s spring, spring, spring |
And from his eerie, the eagle with his eagle eye |
Gazes down across his eagle beak |
And a-fixing his lady with a legal eye |
Screams, «Suppose we set the date this week» |
Ah, yes siree, spring discloses, if it’s all one supposes |
Wagging tails, rubbing noses, but it’s no bed of roses |
And if for the stork you pine, consider the porcupine |
Who longs to cling keeping comp’ny is tricky, it can get pretty sticky |
In the spring, spring, spring |