For it's a long, long time From may to december And the days grow short When you reach september And the autumn weather Turns the leaves to flame And I haven't got time For the waiting game And the days dwindle down To a precious few September november And these few precious days I'd spend with you These golden days I'd spend with you When you meet with the young man 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 A plentiful waste of time
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