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 make a couple of whirls
While I plied her with tears in lieu of pearls and as time came around she came my way
As time came around, she came
When you meet with the young girls early in the Spring
You court them in song and rhyme they answer with words and a clover ring
But if you could examine the goods they bring
They have little to offer but the songs they sing
And the plentiful waste of time of day a plentiful waste of time
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
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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