April comes in drops of rain, washes sun through windowpane.
The talk of trees, the winter stain, the people on the street.
April, she's a quicker dance, a forward gaze, a backward glance.
A weakened knee and a wide-eyed chance of flowers at your feet.
April calls me loud and clear from the middle of the coldest year.
A frozen smile, a crystal tear, a melting in the sun.
Across the yard, a sudden laugh, an echo from a hidden path.
And all the world, it's a muddy bath when old man winter's done.
I remember April days when a warm wind took the snow away.
A robin did a bold display and a gentle crocus bloomed.
I was a kickin' child of spring with a will to run and a gift to sing.
And a heart that took to wandering when it heard the wildwood tune.
April comes in drops of rain, a wash of sun through windowpane.
The talk of trees, the winter stain, and the lovers on the street.
April, she's a quicker dance, a forward gaze, a backward glance.
A weakened knee and a wide-eyed chance of flowers at your feet.
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