They lay their hands upon my had, they stroke my cheek and brow.
And time could heal a hurt they said, and time could dim a vow.
They were pitiful and mild, who whispered to me then.
The heart that breaks an April child, will mend in May again.
The heart that breaks an April child, will mend in May again.
Oh, many a mended heart they knew, so old they were and wise.
And little did they have to do, to come to me with lies.
Who flings me silly talks of May, shall meet a bitter soul.
For June was nearly spent away before my heart was whole.
For June was nearly spent away before my heart was whole.
For June was nearly spent away before my heart was whole.
For June was nearly spent away before my heart was whole."