Too Cold, Too Bright, Too Humid

Dear lovely, my sweetest apple blossom,
You are the pearl in every single clam,
Oh, my adorable little pocket possum,
You are the softness of every lamb,
You are spark of every fire,
Therefore our ties I must hereby sever.
You are the harmony of every choir,
And yes, that's right, dearest, we must never be together.
Not because I don't think you would make everything better,
After all, you make me happier than a rabbit in clover,
But because, quite frankly, I'd rather complain about the weather.
You take away my melancholy and it has to be over.
It's true, my princess, your presence eases my mind into zen.
So I never want to see you ever again.