When the sun plays coy and stays away,
When the clouds are all you get today,
When the misty air and sodden ground,
The all pervasive damp and gray,
When all this mournful litany
Of Weather Channelicity
Starts to wear and grind you down
It's best to just stop. Drink some tea.
Sing a song about felicity.
Pound your pillow with your knee.
Growl so deep you lose your frown.
And wait for sunshine to be found.