Little Green Apples

de B.J. Thomas

And I wake up in the morning with my hair down in my eyes and she says: Hi
And I stumble to the breakfast table while the kids are going off to school: Goodbye
And she reaches out and takes my hand and squeezes it and says: How you feeling hon?
And I look across at smiling lips that warm my heart, and see my morning Sun

And if that's not loving me, then all I've got to say
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time
And there's no such thing as Dr. Seuss or Disneyland and Mother Goose, no nursery rhymes
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time
And when myself is feeling low, I think about her face and go and ease my mind

Sometimes I call her up, at home, knowing she's busy
And ask her if she can get away, meet me and maybe we can grab a bite to eat
And she drops what she's doing and she hurries down to meet me, and I'm always late
But she sits waiting patiently, and smiles when she first sees me, because she's made that way

And if that ain't loving me, then all I've got to say
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't snow in Minneapolis when the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe, puppy dogs or autumn leaves, no BB guns
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't snow in Minneapolis when the winter comes