paroles de chanson
Oh,
it's
a
long,
long
while
From
May
'till
December
And
the
days
grow
short
When
you
reach
September
When
the
autumn
weather
Turns
the
leaves
to
flame
One
that
hasn't
got
time
For
the
waiting
game
For
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
When
you
meet
with
a
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
and
day
And
a
plentiful
waste
of
time
But
it's
a
long,
long
while
From
May
'till
December
When
the
autumn
weather
Turns
the
leaves
to
flame
For
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
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