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    april gave us springtime and the promise
    of the flowers and the feeling that we both
    shared and the love that we called ours but
    I can’t help but have my suspicions ‘cause
    I ain’t quite as dumb as I seem; tell me how
    can you stand there with a broken heart
    ashamed of playing the fool but isn’t that
    the way they say it goes just forget all that
    and give me the number if you can find it so
    I can call and tell them I’m fine and show I’ve
    overcome the blow; doctor my eyes have seen
    the years and the slow parade of tears without
    crying now I want to understand; no, I can’t forget
    the feeling or your face as you were leaving but I
    guess that’s just the way the story goes, baby
    come back any kind of fool could see I was
    wrong and I just can’t live without you.

    Peace,
    Milton

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