I won't go on again about the cold
It's winter after all, and not Sweden
Or even worse Finland, where I am told
They kill themselves there about of depression
Over the dark and cold far more often
Logical, cos it's worse for that than here
So cold Brits, realise your good fortune
It's not nice to be there this time of year
Unless you fly there to see Santa where
He lives, in Lapland, just south of the pole
In which case, just maybe, that could be fun
Today I hired a car, drove to Yorkshire
Holmfirth, to be precise, where cameras rolled
Last of the Summer Wine, town of old men
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