Oh when will it stop raining?
It’s rained for days and days,
It’s going to rain for ever,
at least, so the forecast says.
The weathermen and women
Have had to build an ark
But we haven’t any mountain tops
Round here where they can park.
The water level’s rising
And in the street outside
It gives a whole new meaning
To the talk of Christmastide
Does Santa have a sleigh that floats,
Can all the reindeer swim,
And are the presents waterproof?
If not, they’re for the bin.
Perhaps the North Pole’s melted
And St. Nicholas’ mail
Drifts up to him in bottles
When his troika’s under sail.
But here the waves lap doorsteps
And the windows are all closed,
The firewood’s too damp to burn
While all the hearths look hosed.
Because the roof is leaking
And conditions are so shocking,
What I really want from Santa
Is a wetsuit in my stocking.
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