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 But it's a long, long while from may to december And the days grow short when you reach september. The autumn weather turns the leaves to flame And i haven't got the 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.
https://primoaccordo.net/peter-paul-and-mary/september-song.htm