Season of Mist

Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness,
You hide under a cloak of a nice idea.
But this Tuesday morning you will be unveiled
as it pisses down with rain and a shit load of hail.

So now I’m trapped in my car
I now wish was a boat,
avoiding the inevitable,
pissed that I don’t have my coat.

I guess I could make a run for it
How wet would I get?
But I’m wearing swede boots
which I haven’t protected yet.

Why would you do this to me?
Why today?
I used to be so fond of you,
why would you betray me this way?

As I curse this season,
the clouds suddenly part,
the rain stops and brings joy to my heart.

I make a dash for it,
it wasn’t that far.
And I make it to Sainsbury’s.
Fuck!
I’ve left the keys in the car.