April Comes She Will
Paul Mauriat
Continues after the ad
April, comes she will,
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain.
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June, she'll change her tune.
In restless walks she'll prowl the night.
July, she will fly,
And give no warning to her flight.
Continues after the ad
August, die she must.
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.
September, I'll remember.
A love once new has now grown old.
