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this is the season
this is the season when we make things neat
and wait for passage to the distant shore
as other folk insist they hear a roar
no one would bother to rise from their seat
when they hear timid knocking at the door
this is the season when we make things neat
so that we may move out on the right beat
as happy couples swirl upon the floor
to the old tunes heard many times before
this is the season when we make things neat