Happy but for awhile
The good times were out of style
And April came and went
And colder than it's ever been
You'd lay in the morning time
And gaze at the ceiling, tired and low
And lately you can hear the rain
Blowing against your windowpane
Sounding like a marching drum
Rolled in for a firing gun
It once used to bring you down
But now doesn't turn you 'round, you go, you go
And you won't remember when
You'd hide and the howling wind would blow, would blow

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