Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire - 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 penant
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 endulge 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

Written by:
GENE DE PAUL, JOHNNY MERCER

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find