Thinking I might tell everyone my secrets to life.   With dead leaves and bad dreams.   Like the ones I used to write.   And April showers.   Bring showers bring suicides in May.   And April showers will fill the brockets to lovers’ line.   And the pain lies in learning.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   But you’re laughing all the way home.      I hate the moonlight when it brings out your eyes.   And ill tell you what I think.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   But you’re laughing all the way home.      Can April showers bring suicides in May?   Bring suicides in May?      See how I’ve fallen.   It’s a find out to find out.      You’re right.   You’re right.      I hate the moonlight when it brings out your eyes.   And I’ll tell you what I think.    You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired.   You’re so tired...