Angels Singing - Orlando Weeks

Gritting’s a dying profession they tell me

The planet’s heating up they say

I mean I’ve read somewhere that there’s a tarmac that can de-ice itself

I’m not sure I wanna live in a world were the B2116 doesn’t need gritting

As a rule

I do the local pavements and footpaths before it gets dark

Can’t start on the roads too early

Too much traffic about

But sometimes, needs must

When I have been out during the day

I feel like some kind of seasonal hero

On the narrower roads the car’s will queue for hours behind me

And then one by one

They drive past

Cheering from their window

Beeping their horn

Flashing their light

Keeps me going it does

It’s always the trouble

With loose links and chains

You pick out the corners

And scratch out the names

And the truth of the matter

It’s always the same

You dress for the sun

And down comes the rain

So you dress for the rain

And the sun’s out again

And the angels are singing

They’re blowing the cobwebs away

It’s an old chain of familiar chores

And their hearts are really in it today

We ought to know better

We all come unstuck

And the best of us all

Are still riding on luck

It’s as old as the weather

The one thing you know

You dress for the rain

And the wind starts to blow

So you brace for the wind

And down comes the snow

And the angels are singing

They’re blowing the cobwebs away

It’s an old chain of familiar chores

And their hearts are really in it today

Bridge:

Dress for the sun

Down comes the rain

So you dress for the rain

And the sun shines again

Outro:

As old as the weather

It’s always the same

You dress for the sun

And down comes the rain