Sullen April,
why are you so sad?
Why are you so cold?
Baby, we just want to get to know you—
They say that all girls
love the springtime,
but you dragged your boots,
crushing new flowers in two
And April showers
make you so happy,
but not us, gloomy Gus.
We like the sunshine.
And the Frenchmen at the other table,
they don’t turn your head.
Though they’re dressed up to the nines,
you like your own company fine.
Sullen April,
why are you so sad?
Why are you so cold?
Baby, we just want to get to know you—
You did with boys way too young,
Now you hide in the library,
and you got them on the run—
You weren’t much of a singer,
you couldn’t write a decent rhyme,
but, in spite of your recent hiding,
you had impeccable time-ing.
And wide, open spaces to you were always such a chore,
when it will finally heat up, oh, my sweet,
maybe we can meet up by the shore.
Sullen April,
why are you so sad?
Why are you so cold?
Baby, we just want to get to know you;
Honey, we just want to get to know you;
Darling, we just want to get to know you.