September Song

When I was a young man courting the girls

I played me a waiting game.

If a maid refused me with tossing curls

I'd let the old earth take a couple of twirls

And I'd ply her with tears instead of pearls

And as time came around, she came my way

As time came around, she came

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December

But the days grow short when you reach September

When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame

One hasn't got time for the waiting game

Oh, the days dwindle down to precious few;

September, November.

And these few precious days I'll spend with you.

These precious days I'll spend with you.