Oh, it's a long, long while
From May till December
And the days grow short
When you reach September And the autumn weather Turns the leafs to flame One hasn’t got time for the waiting game And the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November
And these few precious days
I'll spend with you
These precious days
I'll spend with you. When you meet with the young men early in spring
They court you in song and rhyme
They woo you with words and a clover ring
But if you examine the goods they bring
They have little to offer but the songs they sing
And a plentiful waste of time of day
And a plentiful waste of time. For it's a long, long while
From May till December
And the days grow short
When you reach September And the autumn weather Turns the leafs to flame One hasn’t got time for the waiting game And the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November
And these few precious days
I'll spend with you
These precious days
I'll spend with you.
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