Local
Welcome Mr September
Hayet Ben Bada
Cover Thread
USPA NEWS -
When I flash back to the lovely days of September
Where I've kept some dreams and stories to remember
Something like old streets and avenues to wander
Something like my toys when I was younger
I have a fond belief that september will stay forever
There were many things in september, sweet and tender
Something like love, something like adventure
Something like childhood, something like the rain,like the water
I like seven things about the 9th month in my calendar
I like coming home,waiting for the sweet days of the winter
I like watching the sad trees weeping and the silent river
I like to meet my friends again and to start over
I like to smile once more, I like the fall, I like its whisper
But my words will not go sailing any farther
And september will be such a nice story told by a sailor
My boat will be absent tomorrow,
No september, no december
Because september left us in the lurch with a lot of bother
I have to leave now ,september was a song,
Written by the end of the summer
September was the last legend,
Written by the nights of a teenager
The evenings, the nights of the summer
Were nothing but something from september
Where I've kept some dreams and stories to remember
Something like old streets and avenues to wander
Something like my toys when I was younger
I have a fond belief that september will stay forever
There were many things in september, sweet and tender
Something like love, something like adventure
Something like childhood, something like the rain,like the water
I like seven things about the 9th month in my calendar
I like coming home,waiting for the sweet days of the winter
I like watching the sad trees weeping and the silent river
I like to meet my friends again and to start over
I like to smile once more, I like the fall, I like its whisper
But my words will not go sailing any farther
And september will be such a nice story told by a sailor
My boat will be absent tomorrow,
No september, no december
Because september left us in the lurch with a lot of bother
I have to leave now ,september was a song,
Written by the end of the summer
September was the last legend,
Written by the nights of a teenager
The evenings, the nights of the summer
Were nothing but something from september
By : Hayet Ben Bada
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