September Song

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December But 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

Oh, 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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-- ALURKER (nobody@nowhere.com), September 01, 1999

Answers

How about...

"In the wee small hours of the morning, that's the time I'll miss you most of all."

[You = electric, heat, water, etc.]

-- M.C. Hicks (mhicks@greenwich.com), September 01, 1999.

"Confusion
will be my epitaph
As I crawl a cracked
and broken path
If we make it
We can all sit back and laugh

But I fear
Tomorrow we'll be crying"

"Epitaph" by King Crimson

-- Bokonon (bok0non@my-Deja.com), September 01, 1999.