It's already moving—bass underneath, guitar flickering on top, drums and hand percussion keeping the pocket light and quick.

Maurice is in with the question: do you remember.

Twenty-first night of September—still riding that same easy step, no soft-focus pause.

Love changing pretenders' minds, chasing clouds away, while the band just keeps the present tense going.

Hearts ringing, souls singing—the vocal line sits clean over that lived-in grid.

Dancing in the night, stars stealing it away—still no drag in the pocket.

There it is—ba-dee-ya. Horns and voices open the top; the celebration gets brighter without getting heavy.

Say, do you remember—dancin' in September—never was a cloudy day.

Those ba-du syllables take over for a stretch; the groove doesn't flinch.

Second verse: thoughts with you, holding hands with your heart—same light drive underneath.

Now December looks back and finds the love they shared in September—calendar distance the music barely acknowledges.

Hey hey hey again, answers stacked in, and ba-dee-ya returns with more shine on top.

And we'll say ba-dee-ya—backing voices turning it communal while the bass keeps its elastic step.

Golden dreams were shiny days—horn flashes and layered vocals keep throwing light off the same forward motion.

Bells ringing, souls singing—do you remember never a cloudy day.

Late now the refrain feels less like a section and more like a shared chant—cloudy day into ba-dee-ya again.

Dancin' in September one more time; meaning loosens while the body still has the pocket.

Ba-du figures, then ba-dee-ya cascading down into pure syllables.

There—the hold eases, the phrase drops, and the last bit of motor grip slips into the gap.