| Gritting’s a dying profession they tell me
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| The planet’s heating up they say
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| I mean I’ve read somewhere that there’s a tarmac that can de-ice itself
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| I’m not sure I wanna live in a world were the B2116 doesn’t need gritting
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| As a rule
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| I do the local pavements and footpaths before it gets dark
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| Can’t start on the roads too early
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| Too much traffic about
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| But sometimes, needs must
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| When I have been out during the day
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| I feel like some kind of seasonal hero
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| On the narrower roads the car’s will queue for hours behind me
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| And then one by one
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| They drive past
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| Cheering from their window
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| Beeping their horn
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| Flashing their light
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| Keeps me going it does
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| It’s always the trouble
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| With loose links and chains
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| You pick out the corners
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| And scratch out the names
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| And the truth of the matter
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| It’s always the same
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| You dress for the sun
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| And down comes the rain
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| So you dress for the rain
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| And the sun’s out again
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| And the angels are singing
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| They’re blowing the cobwebs away
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| It’s an old chain of familiar chores
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| And their hearts are really in it today
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| We ought to know better
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| We all come unstuck
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| And the best of us all
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| Are still riding on luck
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| It’s as old as the weather
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| The one thing you know
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| You dress for the rain
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| And the wind starts to blow
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| So you brace for the wind
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| And down comes the snow
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| And the angels are singing
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| They’re blowing the cobwebs away
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| It’s an old chain of familiar chores
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| And their hearts are really in it today
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| Bridge:
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| Dress for the sun
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| Down comes the rain
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| So you dress for the rain
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| And the sun shines again
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| Outro:
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| As old as the weather
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| It’s always the same
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| You dress for the sun
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| And down comes the rain |