The Weather Here in Britain



The weather here in Britain is a topic much discussed.
It’s something that affects us every day.

The forecast every morning is a thing you cannot trust;

I really don’t believe a word they say,

I hate it when they show a chart depicting highs and lows,

They never know precisely where they’ll be.

To cap it all, they always smile; it gets right up my nose!

They seldom get it right, don’t you agree?


No matter what the season is we know it’s going to rain.

The roads get full of potholes everywhere.

It floods our gardens, floods our homes; it’s such a ruddy pain!

Does anybody ever really care?


I block our door with sandbags but it comes up through the floor.

I can’t describe just what a mess it makes.

It’s got so bad I can’t get house insurance any more.

That’s no surprise when rooms turn into lakes!


Perhaps I’ll go and emigrate to somewhere where it’s dry,

Where everyday there’s not a cloud in sight.

I’d spend my days on beaches and just let the world pass by,

And have a little drink or two each night.


But when I come to think of it I’d miss the old UK;

I think that I would miss more than I gain.

So put aside all thoughts of going away; I’ll have to stay

And put up with this bloody awful rain!

The End

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