New Yorkers brave the streets in flannel, fleece and down and Gore-Tex

Conserving all their body heat for their cerebral cortex

Lest their brains be frozen by the dreaded Arctic Vortex

 

The East Coast has been turned into a giant North Polarium

You have to wear an overcoat to sit in your solarium

Icebergs clog the rivers and they float in your aquarium

 

TV tells the story as it shows pathetic scenes

Of mammoth drifts on Sutton Place that block the limousines

Of people you might see on covers of your magazines.

The snowplows all are busy up in Harlem or in Queens.

 

And though it sometimes seems the weather can’t get any horrida

And it can be quite tempting to imagine someplace torrida

I’d rather be here any day, than anywhere in Florida.

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