Lyrics:

(Eleanor McEvoy)Keep the weatherman sweet,Then begin sweeping the driveway.News is that the heat'sComing in, Thursday or Friday.Now I'm a little slow to seeHow weatherman's words are gonna satisfy meWords can change my point of viewOnly if they prove to be trueSeven inches of rain,I believe it's gonna get wetterSeven days of the week.Hopes are high it's gonna get betterNow, I'm not in the hoping gameThat's a kind of a pity and a bit of a shameBut hope can be a two-edged swordAnd a luxury that I just can't affordTwelve days, snow would spread the cold aroundTwelve days heat would melt the snow on the groundTwelve days sun is what I'm looking for nowTwelve days grey what's in store.Keep the weatherman sweetThen go off, buy an umbrellaGo and wait for the sunGo and dream beautiful weatherI'm much too old for dreamsNow that's a little bit sad,But not as sad as it seemsWhen dreams have been a thorny crownIt's not so sad when they're tumblin' downRepeat CHORUS