And what price existential breast-beating when there's actual snowballs to be thrown? Nice tune, mind.
“Why won’t it snow, like they said it would?” snarls Mark Greaney, the veteran of 18 winters of discontent. What tricks these weather forecasters play, promising afternoons of snowman building. And then, nothing. Maybe a slight ground frost, just to rub it in. But this song about frustration has been superseded by recent events. You see, it did snow! The cats went mad when this white stuff started falling out of the sky last month. It may well do again this month. And what price existential breast-beating when there’s actual snowballs to be thrown? Nice tune, mind.