When I was a
Young man
Courting the girls
I played the
Awaiting game
If a maid refused me
With tossing curls
I'd let the old earth
Take 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
With 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 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
When the
Autumn weather
Turns 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