歌词
well, it's a long, long time
From may to december
But 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 spend with you.
These precious days
I spend with you.
专辑信息