When you meet with the young men Early in spring They court you in song and rhyme They woo you with songs and a clover ring But if you examine the goods 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 Oh, it's a long, long while From May to December But the days grow short When you reach September And 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