September Song

Oh it’s a long, long while from May ’til December; And the days grow short, when you reach September; When the Autumn weather turns the leaves to flame, one hasn’t got time; For the waiting game (“September Song,” composed by Kurt Weill, lyrics by Maxwell Anderson; 1938)

I love the fall season. The relief from the oppressively humid summer heat, the implied obligation to go outside, the interminable season of interminable baseball…

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Just another mortal, tweaking my cognitive map on the fly.

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