Julie London
Melancholy March
Melancholy March, your gloom is showing
Your winds are blowing across the sky
Melancholy March, your clouds are crying
Your trees are sighing as though they'll die
I know you’re late for winter's tale
Too early for any spring
So we stand hand in hand
Waiting for anything
Melancholy March without a season
You have no reason or rhyme to be
Melancholy March, meet melancholy me
Melancholy March, meet melancholy me