Little Green Apples

LITTLE GREEN APPLES
By Bobby Russell
Eddy Arnold, Roger Miller
Key: G

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And I wake up in the morn-ing 
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with my hair down in my eyes 
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and she says  hi
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And I stum-ble to the break-fast ta-ble 
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while the kids are go-ing off to school, 
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Good- bye.

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And she reach-es out and takes my hand 
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Squeeze-es it says how you feel-in’ hon?
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And I look a-cross at smil-ing lips 
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that warm my heart, and see my morn-ing sun.

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And if that's not lov-in’ me, 
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then all I've got to say,
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God did-n't make lit-tle green ap-ples, 
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and it don't rain in In-dian-ap-‘lis 
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in the sum-mer time.
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There's no such thing as D-r. Seuss 
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Dis-ney Land and Moth-er Goose, 
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Is no nurs-‘ry rhymes.
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God did-n't make lit-tle green ap-ples, 
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and it don't rain in In-dian-ap-‘lis 
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in the sum-mer time.
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And when my-self is feel-in’ low, 
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I think a-bout her face a-glow to ease my mind.

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Some-times I call her up, at home, 
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Know-ing she's bus-y.
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And ask  if she could get a-way, 
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And meet me and grab a bite to eat.

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And she drops what she's do-in’ 
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and hur-ries down to meet me, 
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and I'm al-ways late.
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But she sits wait-ing pa-tient-ly, 
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and smiles when she first sees me, 
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‘cause she's made that way.

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And if that's not lov-in’ me, 
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then all I've got to say,
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God did-n't make lit-tle green ap-ples, 
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and it don't snow in Min-ne-ap-‘lis 
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when the win-ter comes.
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There's no such thing as make-be-lieve, 
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Pup-py dogs and au-tumn leaves and b-b guns.

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And if that's not lov-in’ me, 
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then all I've got to say,
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God did-n't make lit-tle green ap-ples, 
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and it don't snow in Min-ne-ap-‘lis 
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when the win-ter comes.