September Song

When you meet with the young men early in spring They caught you in song and rhyme They woo you with words and a clover ring But if you examine the good 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 But it's a long, long while 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 For 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 These golden days I'd spend With you