Just One Minute
Balanced Fare: We Report, You Deride

Saturday, February 15, 2003

Cold Grips Northeast

It must have been a long day on the ski slopes for my daughter, who composed this (you'll guess the tune):

Get me off of this mountain,
Get me out of this cold.

My eyeballs have frozen, I think they will crack
I don't care if I never come back.

So it's root, root, root for a heat wave.
If things don't warm up there's no hope.

For it's one, two, three below zero
At the old ski slope.

Hmm. Was it the cold, or too much hot chocolate?

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