Springtime Devil, can’t you see

I don’t want you, you don’t want me

I’ll sing it right into your ear

You’ll have to try another year

What could’ve been, what still could be

Were dead and gone when I found me

A real love that I still hold

Twelve months a year here in the cold

Your silver tongue was tarnished long ago

From time to time, you cross my mind

But at the crossroads

You won’t find me there to meet you

Every spring, come back to me

Your big brown eyes, your silver tongue

The same old thing that I heard sung to me last spring

You’re living off a memory

Of youth, not love, of apathy

Misanthropy’s a sentiment you provoke in me so well

I won’t descend back to your hell