(or so the poet said);
But when it reaches thirty-eight,
I’d rather stay in bed…
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READ NOWI dream of snowy mountain tops
And roads all wet and icy;
But trying to drive my little car,
Was really rather dicey.
So, with coughs and colds
(and those bouts of ‘flu);
Do I love a sunburnt country?
You bet your life I do.