I gave you the pretty poems about snow yesterday. Now, I’m going to tell you how I really feel:
I am so tired of ice and snow.
I’d like a way to make them go.
I’d like to send them straight to hell,
But that would cool things off down there.
And when hell freezes over, well,
What happens then it’s hard to tell,
For lots of folks have said they’d do
All kinds of things if that came true.
So, darn, I guess I have to wait
And let things melt at a slow pace.
But if they last much longer here,
I still may send them straight down there.