Now, I know little or nothing about London. Spent a total of 4 hours there in the seventies getting on, and off planes. Never left the airport, and it was sunny and nice for 2 of those 4 hours.
BUT. . . complaining about the weather seems to be a "London thing." So -- since the topic of the rain and fog there fit my lyrical rhythm. . . I decided to go a "complaining about the weather in London" direction.
Here is the lyric.
LONDON FOG
Never been in London – when it wasn’t rainin.
Really doesn’t matter that much,
Not cryin about it – I’m just explainin.
Temporarily stuck here. – Stuck in London again….
I’ll get outta here someday – but I don’t know when.
I flew into Heathrow – a couple weeks ago.
Didn’t think I’d be staying – didn’t really know.
I blew all my money – on a pretty little tramp named Jo.
Now I’ll be on riding a railroad car – if I get the gumption to go.
Bein Stuck here in London. – Is probly what I deserve.
Drizzlin rain and London Fog – rubbing my last nerve.
This wine that I’m drinkin – is nobody’s “private reserve.”
Can’t afford another bottle – better try to conserve.
Sometimes the sun shines here, – But it doesn’t last.
When it isn’t raining – it’s still overcast.
And this cold, grey drizzle – gets old real fast.
Rainy days in the forecast. – Just like the rain in the past.
Never been to London – when it didn’t rain.
Try to keep a stiff upper lip – not supposed to complain.
But this cold grey fog here – is driving me insane.
If I had the wherewithal – I’d be headed for Spain.
Bein Stuck here in London. – Is probly what I deserve.
Drizzlin rain and London Fog – rubbing my last nerve.
This wine that I’m drinkin – is nobody’s “private reserve.”
Can’t afford another bottle now, – better try to conserve.
I know what you’re thinking – “What’s holding me here.
All that keeps me from leaving – is my natural fear.
If I had the courage, – I’d be selling my gear.
Get enough money for an east south - bound train – and a nice cold beer.
Bein Stuck here in London – has gotten under my skin.
Only serves to remind me of – the mess that my life’s in.
Not all that different from – every other place that I’ve been.
Gotta make a decision soon – to start sinkin or swim.
Bein Stuck here in London. – Is probly what I deserve.
Drizzlin rain and London Fog – rubbing my last nerve.
This wine that I’m drinkin – is nobody’s “private reserve.”
Can’t afford another bottle – better try to conserve.