Little Green Apples

O.C. Smith

(Words and Music by Bobby Russell)

And I wake up in the mornin'

With my hair down in my eyes and she says "Hi"

And I stumble to the breakfast table

While the kids are goin' off to school…goodbye

And she reaches out 'n' takes my hand

And squeezes it 'n' says "How ya feelin', hon?"

And I look across at smilin' lips

That warm my heart and see my mornin' sun

And if that's not lovin' me

Then all I've got to say

God didn't make little green apples

And it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime

And there's no such thing as Doctor Seuss

Or Disneyland, and Mother Goose, no nursery rhyme

God didn't make little green apples

And it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime

And when my self is feelin' low

I think about her face aglow and ease my mind

Sometimes I call her up at home knowin' she's busy

And ask her if she could get away and meet me

And maybe we could grab a bite to eat

And she drops what she's doin' and she hurries down to meet me

And I'm always late

But she sits waitin' patiently and smiles when she first sees me

'cause she's made that way

And if that ain't lovin' me

Then all I've got to say

God didn't make 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, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns

FADE

God didn't make little green apples

And it don't rain in Indianapolis