He robbed my entire month of April
replaced it on a dusk afternoon in May
my heart sighed heavily, how I wish he could stay
the nights got darker, and not a star in the ebony sky
I sat awake, spoke to Cupid, and asked the reasons why

Such a hurry had he, there was no hesitation, not a delay
he robbed my month of April, gave me such a painful May
my sweetheart was so delicate, my intentions were so pure
of his, I thought I knew but now only the gods know for sure
why did he have to steal my April only to give it back in May
why did my heart stay open, knowing how much it would pay

Oh Cupid, why must thou always be careless with thy arrow
for spring could not cure my agony, not even the Song Sparrow
disheartening it is to look for answers, only to find suggestions
to walk with never-ending commas and marks full of questions

To think that one could be so happy in April, only to cry in May
not even the bluest of the skies made my heart sing aloud again
when the sun was shining, in my soul remained that cloud of rain

There is no greater agony, than letting go and not taking part
how brave was I to open my delicate, sweet, and humble heart
for the risk was there when he entered on that snowy March day
that he would steal the month of April, only to hand it back in May