Don’t tell me the ropes
I know the lay of the land
And the smell of the invading band
The barometer drops like a garden shed
Better wet than almost dead
Storms go where weakness squats
Dumps with nasty kitchen pots
Storms have eyes, ears as well
Careful you’re not going to hell
Denmark could have saved itself
I put that place back on the shelf
Greenland too, mainly ice
I wouldn’t pay their nasty price
Watch out Dems, Danes and more
My eye is the weather’s core
Eye of the storm, nose to boot
I don’t give a bloody hoot
I dump weather on the enemy camp
You might drown or get a little damp
Watch my fingers, watch my thumb
You really are very dumb
Lines on a map, squiggles on a chart
Put this in your checkout cart
Kiss my ass, prime my pump
I won’t send lightning up your rump
I do isobars in my sleep
Pressure lines to make you weep
Typhoon, racoons, snakes on planes
Mad Cow brings on heavy rain
Swamp gas for those not on my page
Now let’s hear the moans and rage.
Mad Cow is all in the know
He can tell rain from snow
And know the way wind blows
Navigation chart up his nose
Brain on the compass
Blather and rumpus
His ship will set sail
It’s either heads or tails
Path of the storm
What year were you born?
Want puffy clouds or angry hail
Or milk delivered in a dairy pail
Kale is nice this time of year
Hand on the hip, have no fear
Isotopes and dopes