Spent a night in the puddles the rain made on the roads
The roads that leads anywhere but today I'm too cold
There are holes in the blankets so heap mine into folds
and try my hardest to blend in with the mold
Not that they'll see me if I stood on the roads
Or under the bridge with the spiders and trolls
but on the M5 there's a lot to behold
Maybe faces and smiles with riches manifold
But there's a whole day ahead before the end of my rope
There'll still be breath in my neck then I hope
There'll still a beat in my chest then I hope
So I can crawl into my folds with the others who know
That there is an art to being cold...