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

Oh, 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

Oh, 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