Many times I've been told by the wise and the old
|
Something good I'm supposed to remember
|
If my first love I'll found in, in the warm of July
|
It'll cool in the, in the nip of September
|
|
Now they point to the skies
|
To the old and wise
|
And they speak of a chill in the air
|
But I don't care
|
|
Oh, still I love my summertime love
|
Still I love the kissing and the codding
|
Still I love my summertime love
|
With a heart still summertime true
|
|
Still I love my summertime love
|
Still I want her walking close beside me
|
Still I love my summertime love
|
Let the seasons change as they do
|
|
Oh, still I love my summertime love
|
Still I love the kissing and the codding
|
Still I love my summertime love
|
With a heart still summertime true
|
|
-----------------
|
Summertime Love
|
Harry Belafonte |