(Eleanor McEvoy)

Keep the weatherman sweet,
Then begin sweeping the driveway.
News is that the heat¡¯s
Coming in, Thursday or Friday.
Now I¡¯m a little slow to see
How weatherman¡¯s words are gonna satisfy me
Words can change my point of view
Only if they prove to be true

Seven inches of rain,
I believe it¡¯s gonna get wetter
Seven days of the week.
Hopes are high it¡¯s gonna get better
Now, I¡¯m not in the hoping game
That¡¯s a kind of a pity and a bit of a shame
But hope can be a two-edged sword
And a luxury that I just can¡¯t afford

Twelve days, snow would spread the cold around
Twelve days heat would melt the snow on the ground
Twelve days sun is what I¡¯m looking for now
Twelve days grey what¡¯s in store.
Keep the weatherman sweet
Then go off, buy an umbrella
Go and wait for the sun
Go and dream beautiful weather
I¡¯m much too old for dreams
Now that¡¯s a little bit sad,
But not as sad as it seems
When dreams have been a thorny crown
It¡¯s not so sad when they¡¯re tumblin¡¯ down

Repeat CHORUS