The old wolf sniffs the summer breeze
And dreams about his youth
For the sight of skirts above the knees
Turn his hardboiled brain to tears
And the scent of honey in the trees
Whets an old sweet tooth

The pretty girls go strolling by
I smile at them, and heave a sigh
And think of all the things I've missed
And all the pretty girls I've never kissed

They smile from fields of daffodils
They wave from high and windy hills
In secret places by the sea
The girls I've never kissed still wait for me

All the girls whose names I can't recall
Their faces haunt me still
All the pretty girls I've never kissed and never will

The girls of spring, the girls of fall
The girls of summer most of all
If only time did not exist
If only I could catch that boat I always missed
I'd go back and kiss all the pretty girls I've never kissed