'September Song'
(Kurt Weill arr. Batt)

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 take a couple of whirls
While I replied with tears in lieu of pearls,
And as time came around
she came my way.
As time came around she came.

But it’s a long, long while from May to December
And the days grow short
when you reach September
And the Autumn weather
turns the leaves to flame
And I haven't got time
For the waiting game

And the days dwindle down
to a precious few
September, November,
And these few precious days I'd spend with you
These golden days I'd spend with you
When you meet with the young man early in 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

But it’s a long, long while
from May to December
And the days grow short
when you reach September
And the Autumn weather
turns the leaves to flame
And I haven't got time
For the waiting game

And the days dwindle down
to a precious few
September, November,
And these few precious days
I'd spend with you
These golden days
I'd spend with you