It's more than rain that falls on our parade tonight,
It's more than thunder, it's more than thunder.
And it's more than a bad dream, now that I'm sober,
It's more than a swindle this crooked card game.
Nothing but sad times, nothing but sad times.

None of our pockets are filled with gold,
Nobody's caught the bouquet,
There are no dead presidents we can fold,
Nothing is going our way.

And it's more than trouble, I got myself into,
It's more than woe-be-gotten gray skies now...

And it's more than a bad dream, now that I'm sober
There's no more dancing, there is no more dancing,
and it's more than trouble, I got myself into.
Nothing but sad times, nothing but sad times.

And it's more than goodbye I have to say to you,
it's more than woe-be-gotten gray skies now...