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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