Little Green Apples 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 Disney Land 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