April, pride of woodland ways,
Of glad days,
April, bringing hope of prime,
To the young flowers that beneath
Their bud sheath
Are guarded in their tender time;
April, pride of woodland ways,
Of glad days,
April, bringing hope of prime,
To the young flowers that beneath
Their bud sheath
Are guarded in their tender time;
Where is the moment we needed the most?
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost.
They tell me your blue skies fade to grey,
They tell me your passion's gone away,
And I don't need no carryin' on.
Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.
It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear.
She'll put on her make-up, and brushes her long blonde hair.
And then she'll ask me, "Do I look all right?"
And I'll say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight."
The door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,
And left your window silver white.