[Verse 1]
When you meet with the young men early in the Spring
They court you in song and rhyme
They woo you with words 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

[Verse 2]
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
Onе hasn't got time for the waiting game

[Verse 3]
Oh, thе 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