You said your name was Shelly when I met you at Long Beach.
And then, last year, when I saw you at Christmas in Daytona
You said your name was April.
You said you dyed your hair black to fit in with the Duchess.
Because you read in Fashion Weekly how she only liked dark hair girls.
It must have a been a long day that day in Houston.
It was windy here in Chattanooga.
But I still managed to find time to write you a letter.
I just never knew who to send it to.
Because sometimes you like
Hop scotch and taffy
Red balloons and bread.
And sometimes you like
Bottled water and roses
Pretty jewels and kisses
And sometimes you hate me.