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over 2 years ago
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Lyrics of Spring Spring Spring by Bing Crosby,Fred Astaire

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 [unverfied]
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
Writer(s): Gene De Paul, Johnny Mercer

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