And I wake up in the morning, with my hair down and my eyes, and she says, hi. Oh I stumble to the breakfast table, while the kids are going off to school, goodbye. She reaches out and takes my hand, squeezes it, says, how are you feeling now? And I look across at smiling lips that warm my heart, and I see my morning sun. And if that's not loving me, then all I've got to say is, God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime. There's no such thing as Dr. Seuss in Disneyland, and Mother Goose is no nursery rhyme. My God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime. Oh, and when my self is feeling low, I think about her face aglow that heals my mind. Now sometimes, sometimes I call her up at home, knowing she's busy. I ask if she could get away, and *** a bite to eat. Oh, and she drops what she's doing. Honey's down to meet me, and I'm always late. She sits waiting patiently, and smiles when she first sees me, because she's made that way. And if that's not loving me, oh, all I've got to say is, my God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis when the winter comes. There's no such thing as make-believe. Close your doors, autumn leaves, and be begun. God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime. And when my self is feeling low, I think about her face aglow.