| When I was a young man courting the girls
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| I played me the waiting game
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| If a maid refused me with a tossing curls, oh
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| I let the old earth, take a couple of whirls
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| While I plied her with tears in prays of pearls
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| And as time came around she came my way
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| As time came around she came
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| For its a long, long while, from May to December
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| And the days grow short, when you reach September
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| And I have the lost my tears, and the walking in the little rain
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| Hey honey, I haven’t gotta time for gaining Waiting Game
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| And the days turn to crawl (?grow old?) as they grow few
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| September, November
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| And these few colden (?golden?) days I’d like to spend 'em with you
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| These golden days, I’d like to spend 'em with you
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| And the days dwindle down to a precious few
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| September, November
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| And I’m not quite a quip for the waiting game
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| I have a little money, and I have a little pain
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| And these few golden days, as the days grow so few
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| These golden days, I’d like to spend 'em with you
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| These precious golden days, I’d like to spend 'em with you
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| September song, September song
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| September song, September song |