(Marty Clark/Bob Haymes)      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      They say it's 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 heart 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