text: When I was a young man courting the girls
  I played me a waiting game
  If a maid refused me with tossing curls
  Id let the old earth take a couple of twirls
  And Id ply her with tears instead of pearls
  And as time came around, she came my way
  As time came around, she came
  But its 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 havent got the time for the waiting game
  Oh, the days dwindle down to precious few;
  September, November
  And these few precious days Ill spend with you
  These precious days Ill spend with you