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And I wake up in the mornin' |
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With my hair down in my eyes and she says "Hi" |
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And I stumble to the breakfast table |
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While the kids are goin' off to school goodbye |
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And she reaches out 'n' takes my hand |
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And squeezes it 'n' says "How ya feelin', hon?" |
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And I look across at smilin' lips |
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That warm my heart and see my mornin' sun |
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And if that's not lovin' me |
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Then all I've got to say |
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God didn't make little green apples |
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And it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime |
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And there's no such thing as Doctor Seuss |
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Or Disneyland, and Mother Goose, no nursery rhyme |
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God didn't make little green apples |
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And it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime |
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And when my self is feelin' low |
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I think about her face aglow and ease my mind |
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Sometimes I call her up at home knowin' she's busy |
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And ask her if she could get away and meet me |
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And maybe we could grab a bite to eat |
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And she drops what she's doin' and she hurries down to meet me |
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And I'm always late |
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But she sits waitin' patiently and smiles when she first sees me |
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'cause she's made that way |
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And if that ain't lovin' me |
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Then all I've got to say |
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God didn't make little green apples |
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And it don't snow in Minneapolis when the winter comes |
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And there's no such thing as make-believe |
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Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns |
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God didn't make little green apples |
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And it don't rain in Indianapolis |
