Turning blue with the cold when I should be turning right to go home,
chilled to the bone and my bones are chilled to the marrow, but not far to go now.

Tomorrow I shall put on thermals.

These are my trials,
people with eyes on their mobiles instead of watching where they're going, blundering along, it's just wrong,
electric cars on the street that are silent, not even a beep, it's enough to make me weep.

Tomorrow with my thermals on I shall be warm, but I'll still find something to moan about.