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…



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

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